Life in the Neutral Zone
by EchoBravoTango
Summary: An encounter on the edge of Romulan space forces Kirk and Spock to pilot the Enterprise alone for ten days. Trying to be as Star Trek faithful as possible, with some added....intrigue? Will be K/S slash.
1. Alone

**_Life in the Neutral Zone_**

_**  
****Stardate 2258.114.**__The starship _Enterprise_, recently returned from a successful mission to neutralize the Romulan war criminal Nero, departs from Earth under the command of its new Captain, James T. Kirk. At the request of the Federation, the _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the _Enterprise_ is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. This is the story of all that happens on that fateful journey. _

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Captain Kirk jerked awake, a siren blaring over his bed. A red light swirled ominously around his room as he jumped out of bed, swearing loudly. Hauling on a boot, he jabbed the com pad near the door with his elbow and shouted over the blaring wail, "Kirk to bridge, what the hell is going on?!"

"It would appear we are being attacked, Captain," Spock sounded infuriatingly cool, even as an explosion rocked the ship.

"No kidding!" Jim growled, ripping his uniform over his head and hurtling out of his quarters. As he barreled up the hallway towards the stairs he passed Scotty, his Starfleet badge pinned haphazardly to a red nightshirt, rushing to engineering. Taking the stairs two at a time, he burst through the doors to the bridge as another round attack made the panels above his head spark and fizz.

"Spock, report," he said, striding onto the bridge. "Where are we?"

"We passed Earth Station 7 a few minutes ago Captain. Shortly thereafter Ensign Chekov picked up several approaching spacecraft in the nearby Neutral Zone, traveling at Warp 9. We attempted to hail the ships, but they would not respond. Evidently," Spock waved a hand at the window, where Jim could see two Romulan Warbirds streaking alongside them, "they do not wish to communicate with us."

"Romulans!" Jim cursed, flinging himself into the Captains chair. "We aren't even in their space! Sulu, can't we outrun them?"

Sulu opened his mouth to reply, but Spock beat him to it, "Captain, as I am sure you are aware, this vessel can only travel up to Warp 8. The Romulan ships are, regrettably, faster than the _Enterprise_."

Another blast shook the hull. If possible, the sirens blared louder as Chekov reported, "Shields at 56% Ceptain!"

"Jim, we've got to attack back!" Bones had appeared on the bridge.

"The Doctor is right Captain, returning fire would be the logical course of action."

"No! The last thing we need is an excuse for the Romulan Empire to attack the Federation," Uhura protested from behind, "Starfleet is already on bad terms with them over Nero."

"Ensign Uhura, forgive me," Spock said, and his voice was surprisingly cool toward her, "Forgive me, but it would appear that the Romulan Empire is _already_ attacking the Federation."

"Alright," Jim broke over them, as Uhura looked ready to retort, "This isn't the time for lover's spats. Sulu, arm phasers."

Spock flushed slightly and sent both Uhura and Jim a furious look before striding to his post and turning his back on them both. "Aye aye, Captain," Sulu replied.

"Fire at will."

A hail of red jets flew across the window at the Warbirds, which returned fire, making the ship shake more violently than ever.

"Their shields are holding, sir," Sulu reported.

"Damages to deck four, sewen and ten Ceptain," Chekov relayed, his fingers flying over the control pad.

"Hit them again Sulu."

Once again the phasers had no effect. "Their shields are still holding at 90%, sir – they're too strong!" Sulu said, a note of panic creeping into his voice as his consol began to smoke and spark.

Jim drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair anxiously.

"Jim?" Bones prodded him irritatingly.

"Arm phaser cannons," the Captain decided.

"Sir, those weapons have not yet been tested - " Spock started to protest.

"Arm phaser cannons!" Jim ignored him as the sirens around him blared.

"Armed, sir," came Sulu's reply.

"Fire them then!" Jim yelled.

There was a deafening explosion that shook the ship, and Jim just had time to see the rockets connect with the nearest Warbird before he was lurching forward in his seat as the _Enterprise_ dropped suddenly out of warp. Only managing to keep his seat with difficulty, he swore as beside him Bones was thrown off his feet and slid into Chekov's chair.

"Jesus Sulu!" Jim swore, wrenching himself to a sitting position as the Russian Ensign helped Bones to his feet. "What the hell are you doing!"

"That wasn't me Captain," Sulu said, punching furiously at the schematic buttons on his damaged consol.

"Bridge to engineering, what's going on?!" Jim said urgently, and the computer responded with a multi-tonal chirp, followed by Scotty's beleaguered voice.

"We've damage to the nacelles Captain! Warp capability is virtually nil at the moment!"

"Dammit!" Jim cursed again. "Chekov, where are the Romulans?"

"It would appear we disabled one of them Ceptain, but the other is doubling back."

"Shields at 34% Captain," Bones was standing over an abandoned terminal as Sulu tried futilely to return his to full function.

"Captain, with our shields at such a low level, another attack by the Romulan ship - "

"Yeah, thank you Spock, I know," Jim growled with more hostility than he intended.

"Captain, we are being hailed!" Uhura announced.

"Open a channel," Jim said, resuming his chair warily. The view screen crackled and then a face swam into view, but it was not Romulan.

It was Reman. The angry alien in front of him furrowed his blue brow at the crew of the _Enterprise_.

"Intruders," the Reman said, his voice powerful. "You have attacked us. It is our intent to destroy your vessel, but first we wish to know your identity."

"It was _you_ who attacked _us_!" Jim remarked indignantly.

"We were merely defending ourselves," the Reman said coolly.

"From _what_?" Jim retorted.

"You have invaded our territory, and we have used force we deemed nessessary to remove you."

Jim let out an involuntary derisive laugh and was about to reply when he felt a hot hand clench his shoulder painfully. Spock was standing behind him and Jim knew the contact was a warning.

"I was not aware that Remans had a territory in space," Spock said diplomatically, silencing his captain. "Except, of course, the territory it shares with the Romulan Empire."

The Reman captain turned to Spock with interest, his voice losing some of its malice "We are a rogue faction of the Remans, a rebel group who overthrew our Romulan oppressors, stole their Starships and have begun to forge an Empire of our own outside of Romulan space. But what is a Vulcan doing aboard a vessel full of humans?"

"This is a Federation Starship," Jim retorted, "All Federation races are represented in our crew."

"I would rather converse with the Vulcan – we share a common ancestry….and a sense of diplomacy that humans appear to lack," the Reman said smugly. "Please identify yourself, brother."

It was only Spock's fingernails biting into his shoulder that stopped Jim from shouting out the alien. Instead, Spock's cool voice was the one that replied.

"I am Starfleet Commander Spock, son of Sarek of the Vulcan High Council," Spock said calmly. "This is the Federation Starship _Enterprise_, on route to Earth Station 8 to combat possible Romulan attacks on Federation holdings in the region."

The Reman eyed them with renewed interest. "Romulan attacks, you say?"

"Indeed."

The Reman went silent, extended his index and ring fingers on each hand and pressed them to his temples. Spock's hand eased its painful pressure on Jim's shoulder until it merely rested there – apparently Spock trusted him to keep his mouth shut for now.

The bridge doors slide open, admitting a severely harassed looking Montgomery Scott.

"The nacelles are shot sir," he said in defeat. "We think it was the phaser missiles that did it – those babies aren't meant to be fired at warp. They destabilized everything, and when you're running the nacelles at maximum…" he made an explosion hand gesture.

Jim put his head in his hands, massaging his brow. "How long to fix them Scotty?"

"Weeks, sir, weeks if we're lucky."

Jim turned, about to exclaim incredulously, but Spock hand was suddenly vice-like on his arm again as the Reman captain cleared his throat.

"I have conferred with my superiors, and they have confirmed what you say about yourselves. You do well to speak truthfully, brother," he addressed Spock. "The Reman Empire has decided to allow you to live."

Jim managed to hold himself in with difficulty as Spock replied, "That is most considerate of you. Your kindness to the Federation will not go unrewarded."

"However," the Reman continued as if Spock had not spoken. "If we are to allow you to pass safely through our area of space, we feel it only prudent to take some….precautions."

Spock raised an eyebrow, "Such as?"

"Our scanners indicate that your ship can be operated in a subsistence manner by two crew members. As such, we will require that the majority of your crew is transferred to our vessel for the duration of your travel through our space. The Earth Station you seek is on the borders of our territory, and we will escort your crew to that location. Should you comply fully with out terms, you will reach the edge of our space safely and will be able to rendezvous with your crew there."

"Bu - " Jim began.

"Our ship has sustained damage from our recent…misunderstanding." Spock spoke loudly over the captain. "Our warp drive is damaged."

"We Remans are patient, so long as we have progress. Your ship will simply have to go as quickly as it can."

"Which is how fast?" Jim directed the question at Scotty.

"Warp 3, sir," the engineer said with distaste.

"Three?" Jim could not help the note of disbelief in his voice. He turned to Chekov, "At that speed, how far to Station 8?"

"About ten days sir," the Ensign replied.

Jim settled for looking at Spock beseechingly. Spock looked down at him sternly before looking back up at the Reman captain again. "I suppose that there is no chance that we can negotiate terms?"

"I apologize brother, but it is you who has trespassed, and therefore us who will decide the terms of our engagement."

Spock closed his eyes for a moment before looking down at Jim again. "Captain, I think it would be best to accept the proposed plan of action."

"You can't be serious Spock."

"I agree Jim," Bones said, looking surprised at himself. He rarely if ever saw eye to eye with Spock since Jim had been marooned on Delta Vega. "There's not much else we can do, damaged as we are."

"Spock," the Reman said commandingly. Spock turned to face the alien again. "You and your captain will remain on the ship, and the rest of the crew will evacuate within ten minutes or we will consider your inaction to be hostile."

Spock turned to Jim, raising a questioning eyebrow. Jim scanned the faces on the bridge.

"Just say the word Jim," Bones advised, and the assembled officers nodded in agreement.

"Fine," Jim said, punching the com on his chair to activate the ship-wide message screens. "This is the captain speaking. Report to evacuation pods immediately, for immediate transport to the nearby Reman ship. Everything will be explained there. Kirk out."

"Excellent, Captain," the Reman said, smiling without warmth. "We will see you in ten days."

The transmission ended, revealing the empty black space all around them. Jim stood and Spock finally released his shoulder. It felt cold at the loss of the Vulan's unusual heat.

"Scotty, Chekov," Jim said quickly. "I want you to run quick assessments on the ships main systems. Make sure they can be in operating condition for at least days, then get to the pods."

"I will oversee the evacuations, Captain," Spock said. Jim nodded, and the Vulcan swept from the room, followed by all but Chekov, whose fingers were already whipping over the controls at his station, running diagnostics.

"I haf reset the nawigator systems and fuel gauges for trawel to Earth Station 8 at Warp 3 Ceptain," the young Russian informed him less that four minutes later.

"Excellent work," Jim said, meaning it. "Now get to the shuttles."

"Aye aye sir!" he rushed out the bridge doors just as Spock reentered. Jim gave him a questioning look.

"Mr. Sulu and Dr. McCoy are in control of the situation. The pods should launch within two minutes."

Jim nodded as the Vulcan came to stand beside him, both staring out of the wide window at the Reman ship. Moments later, the escape shuttles powered into view from alongside the _Enterprise_, docking with the other ship as the two men watched in silence. Soon the last pod had docked. The Reman ship flicked its insignia lights at the _Enterprise_ once before going to warp. In an instant the ship and crew were gone, leaving Spock and Jim alone on the bridge of the _Enterprise_.

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Please review! 3


	2. Repairs

Thank you to _Chimcha, Snarky, Gumdrop, Fridayweed, Shinigami061, steph88NYC, Mars-Eclipse, stillframe shattered, MattyLovesGames_ and _DaughterofDeath_ for their reviews - this one is for you!

**_Life in the Neutral Zone_**

_**Stardate 2258.115**__. At the request of the Federation, the starship _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the _Enterprise_ is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. On the way there, the ship encounters hostile Reman rebels. Striking up a temporary peace agreement, Kirk and Spock left to pilot the Enterprise out of danger on their own, in return for their crewmates' safe passage to the space station._

_************************_

Jim was fuming, mulling over the events of yesterday night. To be marooned in space, spluttering along at Warp 3 with limited weapons, no shields and no com wasn't exactly how he had saw his first mission as a Starfleet captain going. To be completely upstaged by his first officer in negotiations, to be treated as if he wasn't even _there_ by the Remans, was just downright humiliating.

And now he was left here alone with Spock. Piloting a Starship is an entirely manageable job for two crew members. In basic training the cadets are taught the routine maintenance of all the ship's systems so that, should the rest of the crew become incapacitated, they could maintain the ship at a heading to get help.

Sitting at a control panel in engineering, Jim was drumming his left fingers against the desk in frusteration as he jabbed the screen with his right. The systems were completely beyond his grasp and, not for the first time since becoming captain, he wondered what on Earth they had taught him in training.

Of course, he had to admit, it was possibly _slightly_ his fault. He could remember the lesson in which his warp mechanics professor had taught them about nacelles quite clearly. Unfortunately, what he remembered most about the lesson was the green-skinned Gaila sitting behind him, and what he had planned to do to her in the recreation room that evening.

Worse yet, nothing in training taught the cadets how to repair damaged systems, which is what Jim was trying to do. For the last hour he had been trying to reboot the damaged diagnostics manual so that e could pull up schematics of the nacelles, but his every try was met with either a denial or a complete meltdown on the computer's part.

Quietly, the door behind him slide open. Spock was walking towards him through the dimmed lights of the vast engineering hall. They had decided that it would be prudent to conserve power seeing as the ship was in such a fragile state and might break down any moment.

"Captain," Spock reached him and leant over the consol to observe what he was doing. "What progress have you made with the nacelles?"

"I'm trying to recover the schematics," Jim sighed, pushing his palm into the consol and shoving his chair backwards so the Vulcan could see what he was doing, "and I told you to call me Jim."

Spock raised one of his perfect eyebrows in badly concealed disbelief. "Have you tried re-imputing the recovery codes manually?"

"The input area of the screen was damaged in the explosion."

Spock came close to smirking as he reached over Jim and opened a panel on the desk, revealing a backup keypad. Jim bit back a scowl and spun back to the consol. Stupid Vulcan. Racking his brain, he tentatively typed in the first code. It worked, of course, as did the second and third. Soon the screen in front of him was swimming with recovered data, but still missing the crucial nacelle schematics.

His fingers resumed their strumming as he stared at the console, trying to remember the code he needed. He was trying to decide if it began with alpha-delta-pi or alpha-delta-gamma when Spock apparently able to stand it no longer, spoke.

"Alpha-delta-zeta-four-three-pi," he prompted with a hint of superiority in his voice.

It was more than Jim thought he had to take from his first officer. He ated this task anyway. He rounded on him. "Thank you, Spock," his voice bit out the words. "Since you seem to know so much about this, why don't I just leave you to it?"

He stood up. Spock looked mildly taken aback.

"You are upset with me," he stated, his surprise betrayed in his voice.

"No kidding?" Jim said irritably. "Look, you used to be a teacher and I get it, you've got a power trip going on in that Vulcan brain of yours, but I'm your Captain! You need to quit acting like you're in control here!"

Spock looked at him seriously, and Jim registered that the sudden lack of any discernible emotion probably meant that Spock was fighting some feeling down. Good.

"I am not sure to what incidents you are referring, Captain."

"What about that taking control bullshit with the Remans!? You made me look like complete fool in front of my new crew and a hostile alien race!" Jim scowled at the Vulcan, adding as an afterthought, "and it's Jim!"

Spock's eyebrows creased almost imperceptibly. "I was merely preventing your understandable inexperience in diplomacy with Vulcanoid species from giving the Remans an excuse to attack us."

"So you _do_ think you're in charge then?" Jim said dangerously.

"I am merely aware," Spock said, ice creeping into his words. "That you had not yet negotiated with that species before and that we could not afford to displease them."

"So you are my babysitter now? Here to make sure Kirk plays nice in the sandbox?"

Spock sent him a look that had Yes written all over it, setting his blood on fire.

"Let me get this straight - " he began, but he was interrupted.

"Captain," Spock said, coolly, "I believe that now would be a good time for you to implement you plan to leave me to attend to the nacelles. Perhaps you could go see what can be done to repair the replicator, as I suspect that your irritableness may be stemming from a lack of sustenance."

Jim clenched his fists and contemplated punching the Vulcan's vaguely smug face, but he remembered what strength Spock's wirey frame concealed. He settled for pointing a finger offensively close to the Commander's face.

"_You. Do. Not. Give Me Orders_. Fix these goddamn nacelles so we can get out of her quickly, I can't take ten days alone with you," he snarled, and then stormed from the room.

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That evening found Jim in the mess hall of the ship, sitting at the corner table of the vast empty room and enjoying a piece of cherry pie. Much to his initial annoyance, he had realized that the Vulcan had been right about his needing food. Apparently Vulcans could subsist happily on small servings of the noxious slush the damaged replicator had been producing, but Jim was a different creature altogether. He needed one good meal a day to keep his temper in check.

The Captain idly ran his fork over the now-empty plate, scraping up the last remaining pie crusts and licking them from the utensil. Feeling full and flushed with his success in repairing the replicator, Jim felt ready to bury the hatchet with his pointy-eared companion. In fact, he was feeling slightly ashamed of his actions that morning, even if he did think Spock was infringing on his command too much.

As if on cue, the mess hall doors opened to admit the Vulcan, who was striding up the ward, his arms clenched tightly at his sides and his hands balled in fists. Jim rose, immediately sensing that there was something wrong with his first officer.

"Spock, what's wrong?"

Spock strode right up to him so that he was less than two feet from Jim. "Wrong?" the Vulcan snarled, and Jim stepped back in alarm at the unexpected tone. Spock stepped forward, chasing him down.

"_Wrong_? I'll tell you what's wrong, _Jim_," he said Jim's name with the utmost sarcasm. "You being the captain of this ship, that's what's wrong. _You_, the cheating, hotheaded cadet who humiliated me in front of the Vulcan High Council by betraying my emotion to them, _you_ are Captain and I must settle for being your puppet."

Jim stood, staring at the Vulcan with his mouth open. There was nothing he could think of to say to such an unexpected and an uncharacteristic outburst. Spock, however, did not seem to require a reply.

"_Emotionally compromised_," he spat out. "Do you see what you have done to me James Kirk?"

He gave Jim a shove in the chest that sent the Captain flying over the table behind him. Moments later, the Captain reappeared, rising to his knees behind the overturned counter and wincing. "Jesus Spock, what the hell has gotten into to you?" he demanded, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"You," the Vulcan hissed. "I was fine before you came along."

Then he kicked Jim in the stomach. He was hurled through the air, smashing into the wall hard enough to dent the metal siding. It felt at if his stomach had turned to jelly. He clutched at it and felt something wet and sticky. Fearing the worst he glanced down, to find his uniform stained not red, but grey-black.

Footsteps made him look up. Spock was coming for him. A quick examination told Jim that the Vulcan was doused from the waist down in the black substance. He knew he had to get to sickbay and figure out what was wrong with the Vulcan quickly, before he killed him.

"Spock," he pleaded at the advancing Commander. "What are you doing?"

Anger danced hotly in the Vulcan's eyes as he grabbed Jim's uniform and hauled him to his feet. "I am venting my feelings," he replied savagely, shaking the Captain slightly as he said it.

"Not very logical, is that?" Jim pointed out hopefully.

"I have been released from my bonds of logic," Spock said, his face twisting into what could have been a smile, were it not so frightening. Then Jim got an idea. If Spock were no longer bound by logic, perhaps he could be tricked….

"Alright, Spock, I tell you what," Jim said, letting a note of false resignation creep into his voice. "You're right and we both know it. Why don't we head on up to the bridge and see if we can get the com working to hail Starfleet at let them know that you are assuming command?"

Slowly, Spock released him, nodding. "I am glad that you have seen it my way," he said, unnerving calm returning to his voice.

He used his freed hand to grab Jim's wrist instead, and the Captain found himself being pulled out of the door. When they reached the turbolift, the Vlucan dropped his hand. They rode in silence. Reaching Deck 1, they departed the lift facing the doors to the bridge. As Jim had hoped he would, Spock strode ahead eagerly into the command center, looking quite deranged and extremely pleased with himself. As soon as Spock had passed through the doors, Jim shouted, "Computer, seal the bridge!"

He had a momentary glimpse of Spock's outraged face as the Vulcan realize his trick before the doors snapped shut between them. Spock's roar of rage resounded as Jim added urgently, "Disable all overrides of the bridge seal except the captain."

"The bridge has been sealed," the computer informed him cheerfully, as Jim turned back into the turbolift.

Reaching Deck 5, Jim burst out of the lift and headed straight to the infirmary, intent on identifying the substance that was all over his arms. Arriving, he reached for the nearest scanner and waved it at his wet hand.

It responded immediately, "**Positive Identification:** Trellium-D. **Origin: **Delphic Expanse. Brought aboard _Enterprise_ cargo bay Stardate 2258.85. **Warning:** Mildly radioactive. Potent Vulcan neurotoxin."

"Shit," Jim swore aloud, jamming the words "Vulcan neurotoxin" on the touch screen. The scanner replied in a friendly voice, "Effects of trellium-D exposure in Vulcans include severe loss of emotional inhibition, violence and loss of memory of exposure event. May cause death if left untreated or exposed to in extremely high amounts."

"Shit!" Jim swore again, tossing the scanner back onto the table. As mad as he was at his first officer, he definitely did not want him to die. He yanked open a drawer and pulled out two sickbay gowns before turning on his heel and barreling back out of the sickbay toward the turbolift.

Reaching the bridge's sealed door again, Jim had a moment's indecision as he realized he had no real plan. All he knew is that he needed to get Spock out of the contaminated clothes he was wearing and quickly.

"Computer," he said, clearing his throat nervously, "unseal the bridge."

The doors slid open and Jim braced himself for attack, but it did not come. Instead, to his shock, he heard strangled sobs coming from the captain's chair. Cautiously he went in.

"Spock?"

The sobbing stopped, and the chair spun slowly to reveal a very green-eyed Spock, who had obviously been weeping. "Jim?" he asked tentatively, in a very small voice. "You came back?"

"Um, yes," Jim hated not knowing what was going on.

"I had thought, after the way I acted this morning," Spock rose from the chair but hung his head.

Instinct told Jim not to argue with this. Instead his suggested, "Spock follow me."

"Of course, Captain," the Vulcan said meekly and Jim, not daring to believe his random luck, led the subdued Vulcan to the turbolift where they headed to the officers quarters.

They entered Jim's dim quarters without speaking. Once the Vulcan had gotten all the way into the room, Jim turned to face him.

"Spock," he said sternly. "This is going to sound really weird, but I order you to take off your outer clothes."

Spock eyes turned to lock on his in confusion. "Captain?" he asked, and Jim sensed another shift in his mood beginning.

"They're uh…very dirty," Jim lied lamely. "You are messing up my rug."

Spock gave him a long look, and Jim could have sworn he saw a smile playing across the corners of the Vulcan's mouth. Jim knew that the addled first officer had not been fooled this time. However, to his relief, after a moment Spock nodded and said, "Of course Captain."

Leaving the sickbay robes for Spock to change into, Jim went around to the other side of the partition in the center of his room to change out of his own shirt, also soiled by the trellium-D. He had just pulled off his uniform and turned to his dresser to select a replacement when he felt hot fingers slide around his waist.

Yelping in surprise, he had only a moment to process what was happening before he was spun around roughly and pushed into the wall behind him which just less than enough force to hurt. Then Spock's hot body was pressing his own into the partition and Jim realized with a jolt of panic that he was wearing only his Starfleet-issue underwear.

"S-Spock?"

"Jim," Spock breathed hotly, his mouth inches from Jim's ear, before ducking his head to suck on the soft spots down Jim's neck. Involuntarily, the Captain felt his head tilt backwards, giving the Vulcan better access, before he could stop himself.

In that instant, he decided that he really had to stop chasing Uhura and find a willing partner, if he was so deprived that Spock was turning him on. _Spock_.

The too-warm hands were roaming his body lewdly as Spock raised his head to stare him dead in the eye. Suddenly his lips were pressing firmly into the vaguely protesting Human's, and Jim's head swam unexpectedly._ Dammit_. Stupid uninhibited horny Vulcan.

Unable to speak and pinned by Spock's hands firmly to the wall, Jim did not know what to do when he felt the Vulcan's tongue flick out and caress his lower lip. His mind was made up for him as Spock's hand unexpectedly drifted lower, rubbing gently against the front of Jim's pants. He gasped and Spock took the opportunity to slip his tongue smoothly into his mouth. Unwanted lust burst forth in Jim's brain. _Dammit_, he thought again. Spock was _good_ at this.

Jim, mustering the coherency he had left, lifted his hands to Spock's chest to shove him off. As soon as he touched the Vulcan's bare chest, however, Spock gave a low growl and snatched his hands up into his, weaving their fingers together intimately. At the same moment he released Jim's lips, leaving the Human panting for breath. His hands needed to hold onto Jim, the Vulcan pressed his hips into the Captains and Jim flushed as he became aware that they were both enjoying this more than he would have thought even possible. A wave off pleasure shot through his body as Spock raised their joined hands to pin them on either side of Jim's head. Pinning his hand's against the wall, Spock rubbed their fingertips together in what Jim realized was an extremely intimate Vulcan gesture.

For the first time, Jim realized Spock might be more than just horny without a good outlet. The Vulan had stopped moving now and was staring at Jim, their foreheads pressed together. The look the Vulcan was giving him was far too affectionate, too…_loving_.

"What are you doing Spock?" Jim whispered. As gently as possible, Jim pushed the Vulcan off him and into a sitting position on the bed so that he was standing over him.

Spock looked up at him in confusion and after a long delay, he said, "I must admit I am confused, Jim."

Jim was relieved and, though he would not acknowledge it just then, a bit disappointed when he registered the Vulcan's customary formal speech returning. The effects of the trellium-D seemed to be slowly fading.

"It is evening? Why am I not in my own quarters?" Spock said at last, sounding suddenly disoriented again.

Jim eyed him with surprise and apprehension for a moment before lying smoothly, "You've been sick, and I brought you here to monitor you, considering we don't have a Doctor."

"…Logical…" Spock muttered, sounding tired and staring around the room. Then he stood to go.

"Oh no," Jim said pushing him back into the bed. "You are staying here. I'll be sleeping on the couch."

"That's an order," Jim added as Spock looked ready to protest.

"Thank you Captain," Spock murmured, leaning back on the bed.

"No problem Spock," Jim said shakily, snatching up his dirty shirt from the floor and ducking around the patrician just as the Vulcan rested his head back in Jim's pillow and closed his eyes.

Jim strode around the room collecting the clothes that Spock had obviously tore off himself willy-nilly, tossing them in the garbage chute. Then, his knees weak from the adrenaline still pumping through his body, his sunk into the couch. Sitting there he could hear the steady breathing of the sleeping Vulcan, and it made him wonder just how much of this the other officer would remember in the morning.

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Yeah, trellium-D is actually canon - its a type of ship insulation that makes Vulcan's go a bit crazy. A gift from the slash gods? I think so.

Please Review 3


	3. Aftermath I

Hey all, sorry for the length between updates – I so busy!

Some replies for my lovely reviewers:

_wmonica_ – does ten days of them together seem enough? ;)

_Nelotizapu _– is she? I looked at up but as far as I can tell, at this point in the alternate timeline she's still an Ensign. As for the Remans, I don't think they had a choice….I'd say you have good instincts though. :D

_Shinigami061_ – it DOES seem that way, doesn't it?

Thanks also to _steph88NYC, WeeEEee, neenabluegirl, SnowsongIsAJaypawFan, hpets, Chimcha, Daeleniel Shawdowphyre, sugarbucket, Flying on a Broken Wing, SpirkTreker42 _(great name btw!), _Mars-Eclipse, Mandy, lovefan81, lucy walker texas ranger, Erudit, starfire angel, MattyLovesGames, stillframe shattered, XthirteenX, naruke3176, Jord-El, mildetryth, Hikaru, Secret Thought, Chicapanzy, papersoul_ and _Dreaming-of-a-Nightmare_ for their reviews! This chapter is dedicated to you.

**Life in the Neutral Zone **

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_**Stardate 2258.114**__. At the request of the Federation, the starship _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the _Enterprise_ is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. On the way there, the ship encounters hostile Reman rebels. Striking up a temporary peace agreement, Kirk and Spock are left to pilot the _Enterprise_ out of danger on their own, in return for their crewmates' safe passage to the space station._

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Jim woke to find one of his arms entirely asleep. It was hardly a surprise, considering the awkward position he had evidently slept in on the couch. His muscles and joints creamed in protest as he lurched into a sitting position, his arm hanging limply beside him. Stilling for a moment, he listened for the sound of the Vulcan sleeping in his bed beside him. As far as he could tell, Spock was still slumbering deeply.

Quietly, so as not to wake him, Jim stood up and moved to the end of his bed, rotating his arm in circles as he went. As the blood flow slowly returned to his unfortunate limb, Jim stared down at Spock with the same tumult of confused emotions that he had been experienced all night. Unlike the Vulcan, his sleep had been anything but deep. The combined effects of the couch and the experience of being felt up by his drugged First Officer had conspired to keep him up most of the night.

What bothered him most was how and why. How had Spock gotten in contact with trellium-D in the first place, and why had he acted the way he had. Jim thought he'd needed to read up on the substance a bit more before he could even begin to guess which of the emotions Spock had shown were direct effects of the chemical and which ones were because of his emotional inhibition. Still, that didn't stop his usual curiosity from burning.

Absentmindedly, Jim raised a finger to his lips, remembering the pressure of the Vuclan's hot mouth on his. He knew he should probably feel more disturbed, or concerned, about Spock's advances on him but he didn't see the point in worrying just then. As he pressed his fingers to his mouth he felt a dull pain and pulled them back again. Despite himself he felt his mouth split into a grin as he realized his lips were bruised, reminded forcefully of some of his more feisty conquests back at the Academy. Shaking his head in amused disbelief, he reached over to grab a shirt from the drawer he had never got to close last night and then left the room silently.

Tugging his shirt over his head as he went, Jim headed to the nearest recreation room. His arms were still both incredibly stiff and, as Jim went to pull the banana he had requested out of the replicator, he realized that he had dark bruises across his wrists from where Spock had pinned him to the wall. An unbidden jolt of arousal shot through Jim at the memory, as unexpected as it had been at the time. He shook his head, wondering if they had both gone crazy.

His hunger satisfied, Jim decided to set about trying answer the first of his two burning questions by trying to retrace Spock's steps of the day before to find out when he might have ended up exposed to trellium-D. Halfway to the mess hall, where he had first seen the deranged Vulcan, Jim was surprised to discover a door lying across his path, ripped off its hinges by some superhuman strength.

More than a little awed at the power that his First Officer evidently possessed, Jim stepped over the door and into the forlorn looking doorway that led to a flight of stairs. Looking down the stairwell, Jim saw that the banister was warped into a sine wave. In his mind's eye he saw Spock running up the stairs, his hand slamming down on the banister as he leapt several at a time.

Walking slowly down, Jim ran his hands over the dent in increasing confusion. He had thought that Spock had been rough when his had thrown him against the wall, but if this banister was any indication, the fact that he was alive suggested the Vulcan had been holding back. Remembering that the tricorder had said that rage was a common side effect of trellium-D exposure, Jim realized for the first time that if the First Officer had really disliked him, he would probably be dead.

He followed the path of destruction – a bent door here or a smashed panel there – all the way down to the cargo bay on deck eight. Being careful to avoid the ominous looking black patches on the floor near the door, which was jammed open, Jim took a few steps into the bay. It was a disaster zone. Everywhere there was evidence of Spock's rage as he had charged through the room to hunt down his Captain. Shivering, Jim picked his way carefully over bent pipes, toppled stacks of chairs and ripped boxes of phasers. The last one made him cringe involuntarily; thinking what might have happened had Spock picked one of those up.

Now thoroughly shaken, Jim finally reached the end of the path, a battered looking storage vessel that was slowly leaking trellium-D from its side. Jim wavered over whether or not he should fix it for a moment before concluding that the last thing he needed to do was to walk back into his quarters covered in the stuff and risk running into Spock.

Beside the leaking vat lay an abandoned calking gun from engineering, half filled with the black liquid, but try as he might, Jim could see no reason why Spock would have made the mistake of using the trellium-D in the first place. He would be very surprised if the First Officer did not know its effects. Since Spock was not exactly a risk taker, Jim mused, he must have used the material by mistake.

Frustrated to have found no answer to his question, Jim checked his watch. It was nearly noon; surely Spock would be awake by then. Pulling out his communicator, Jim said, "Kirk to Spock, where are you?"

His voice was raspy from all the yelling he had done last night and its lack of use this morning. He gave Spock a few moments to reply before repeating his transmission. This time, he received a blast of static as a response. Worried, Jim turned and hurriedly picked his way across the room again, thinking that Spock might have somehow gone AWOL again.

It was not until he was in the turbolift that he took a moment to calm down and realized he was being silly. The Vulcan was probably just still sleeping and here Jim was running around like a worried mother. Like Bones. Jim smiled.

He walked at a more sedate pace to his quarters and was surprised and relieved to find Spock both awake and still there. He was sitting on the couch that Jim had spent the night on, his fingers pressed to his temples. For a moment, Jim thought he might be meditating. However, a closer look at his First Officer's face revealed a surprisingly dramatic expression of pain. Jim stepped forward in alarm.

"Spock!" he asked, "What's wrong!"

Spock took a moment to reply and when he did, it was through clenched teeth. "I would prefer if you spoke less loudly Captain," he requested, a hint of a moan in his voice, "as it would appear that I am suffering the after effects of a neurochemical imbalance induced by a foreign substance, which has caused me to have an elevated sensitivity to light and sound inputs."

Jim took a second to puzzle that out and then, despite himself, he broke into a devilish grin. "You're hung-over?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I must admit to being surprised," said Spock, not sounding surprised at all, "Since I had thought that Vulcan's did not experience effects such as these, having such command over our own body processes as we do."

Jim shrugged, still smiling. Walking over to the door again, he dimmed the lights of the room slightly. "Maybe it's your human half you've got to think for this then?"

Spock opened his eyes, looking surprised. Jim hurriedly arranged his features to a more appropriate expression of concern. Spock arched and eyebrow at him and said slowly, "A logical deduction I had failed to consider, Captain."

Jim shrugged again, saying, "Always happy to help Spock." Then, realizing for the first time that Spock was in full Starfleet uniform, he asked, "Where did you get those clothes?"

Spock flushed slightly. "When I awoke this morning and discovered my state of undress, I thought it prudent to visit my quarters and procure replacement clothing before your return."

Jim chuckled, and then asked, "Why did you bother to come back here then?"

"It would appear that my communicator was damaged yesterday," Spock answered. "Given that I could not contact you, I thought it prudent to remain here in case you came looking for me."

Shaking his head at his First Officer, the only soul he knew who would still follow his logic in the face of a raging hang-over, Jim said, "I'm not surprised your communicator is broken, given all destruction that went on yesterday. It's a good thing we have nine days left in this blasted area of space, because we are going to need it to fix the ship now."

He had meant it teasingly, but Spock looked at him in alarm. "Captain, please tell me what damages I caused, other than injuring you."

"How did you –"

Spock gestured at his bruised wrists and then his face, which Jim realized must look worse for wear from its recent acquaintance with the mess hall wall. "You may be injured often Captain, but I can assure you that I can tell when you have more than your baseline of bruising," he said, and Jim could have sworn there was a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

"So you don't remembering anything then?"

"I have only very vague recollections of the day's events after I met with you in engineering."

Jim whistled softly and said, "So you don't even remember the trellium-D at all?"

Spock's head whipped up to look at him again, his eyes very wide. Jim thought he could almost feel an aura of panic around the man. After a moment, the First Officer regained his composure and asked evenly, "I was exposed?"

Jim ran his hands through his hair and sat down on the couch opposite Spock. "You definitely were – I discovered what's left of the cargo bay covered in it this morning."

Spock blanched and Jim saw his jaw clench in an apparent bid for control. "I am relieved then," he said, "That I did not injure you any more than I did. Trellium-D is a powerful substance that strips a Vulcan of his or her logic completely. Vulcan emotions are usually much stronger than human ones and when unleashed they can be formidable. It also tends to cause rage in those exposed to it, and after our disagreement in engineering…"

Spock trailed off, evidently coming to the same conclusion that Jim had less than an hour earlier. Taking pity on the man who looked, for him anyway, suddenly anguished, Jim sent him a disarming smile and said, with an attempt at bravado, "You must secretly really like me eh Spock?"

Spock flushed uncharacteristically at this and simply said "Indeed."

Jim chuckled, thinking what an understatement that was. Once his First Officer was feeling better, he thought he might have some fun revealing what had gone on to him. An involuntary trill of excitement went though him at the thought, making him shake his head again.

"Don't worry Spock," he said, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder, "I think there's a lot of crazy going around right now."

Hopping to his feet, Jim turned to the Vulcan, who was staring at his feet. "Feeling up to some lunch Spock?" he asked.

Slowly, Spock looked up to him and nodded, rising slowly from the couch. Jim strode to the doors, which opened immediately, flooding the room with light. Out of the corner of his eye Jim saw his Vulcan counterpart stifle a wince. Grinning, he led the way to the mess hall.


	4. Surprises

Hey all – here's a little Spirk to round off your week!

Thanks to _StayLikeThat4Now, Chimcha, Dreaming-Of-a-Nightmare, Kelgadis, hpets, Mars-Eclipse, Secret Thought, Jord-El, MeEksiNs, Ashley, Silver-ShadowSpark, wmonica, schan, steph88NYC, Shinigami061, starfire angel,_ and _Dreamwriter613_ for their reviews!

_naruke3176_ – thank you, and be patient! the man's only been awake an hour and he IS a bit groggy! ;)

_lovefan81 _- *dun dun dun*…..that's all I'm saying :P

**Life in the Neutral Zone **

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_**Stardate 2258.114**__. At the request of the Federation, the starship _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the _Enterprise_ is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. On the way there, the ship encounters hostile Reman rebels. Striking up a temporary peace agreement, Kirk and Spock are left to pilot the _Enterprise_ out of danger on their own, in return for their crewmates' safe passage to the space station. Along the way, Spock is exposed to the neurotoxin trellium-D. _

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"Don't worry Spock," the Captain said, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder, "I think there's a lot of crazy going around right now."

Automatically, Spock stiffened at the contact. Vulcans were generally not fond of touch. This time, however, the Vulcan felt a shock of heat and flood his body as the Human hand met his shoulder.

_Illogical,_ he had time to think, knowing that Vulcans were as a species far hotter in temperature than Humans. The next moment all thought was washed from his mind as a vivid scene burst before his closed eyes.

_Jim was kneeling before him in the mess hall, his eyes pleading even as his posture was defiant. Spock's blood pumped in his veins hotly, irrational rage filling him as his mind brought forward every thing James T. Kirk had ever done to cause him anger. Things that he had long forgiven the man for resurfaced with a vengeance and Spock found himself unable to reason them away again. Almost against his will he felt his leg swing up and collide with the vulnerable captain's stomach and it was only through great force of will that he avoided using enough force to have killed the man. As it was, he reveled in the thought that the Captain would have bruises tomorrow. _

"Feeling up to some lunch Spock?" asked a voice from far away, and Spock was pulled from his recollection. Shaken, the Vulcan took a moment to reply. His brain felt sluggish, slower and far less straightforward than usual. Eventually he nodded, rising from the couch and following the Captain to the door. As the light from the hall flooded in, Spock had to repress a moan as a wave of nausea hit him. He saw Kirk grinning out of the corner of his eye.

They walked in silence, friendly on the Captain's end and perplexed on Spock's, to the mess hall. Spock barely saw the hall they were in, as he turned the scene he had remembered over in his mind. Horror and fascination warred in him equally as he realized how close he had come to killing the Captain and then that somehow, even without any of his Vulcan control, he had not.

As they entered the turbolift, Spock decided he should convey to the Captain that he had recalled at least part of the day's events, as embarrassing as they might have been for him. Without looking at the man, Spock said, "I assume you do not require any medical attention for the injuries you sustained to your stomach during the course of events of yesterday?"

He could not bring himself to say 'injuries that I inflicted on you', but Kirk did not seem to notice or dispute is version of events. Instead, the Captain turned to him and exclaimed, "So you do remember!"

Spock took a moment to analyze the man's posture and expression. If he was correct, the Captain seemed to be slightly more on edge than he had been. The Vulcan had a feeling that he was still forgetting something important. A frustration like that which he had not felt since he was very young and had not learned to master himself welled in him unexpectedly.

"I have just recalled my actions in the dining area," Spock said, still studying him hard. "They were….extremely regrettable. I would like to apologize."

Kirk raised his eyebrows and the expression was so similar to Spock's own look of skepticism that the First Officer was nearly surprised into missing what he said next.

"Extremely regrettable?" Kirk smirked. "Well, I guess you could put it that way, though I think my stomach – and most of the rest of my body – would disagree."

He rubbed his stomach absentmindedly for a moment before continuing. "Then again, I suppose I'm just lucky that you didn't kill me. Thanks for that."

"It is highly illogical for you to thank me for not committing murder and to ignore my other obvious indiscretions."

"I think it's illogical for you to have been trying to kill me in the first place," the Captain stretched his arms with a vague air of cockiness. "What can I say, I'm a forgiving guy. Not all of your indiscretions were so bad anyway."

Spock raised an eyebrow, noticing that Kirk was looking surprised even at himself. He had stopped mid-stretch and Spock thought he recognized the puzzled expression on the man's face. "Captain?" he asked as they left the turbolift, desiring clarification.

After a brief moment the Captain's face settled back into a comfortable and confident smile and he replied, "It was kind of fun to see you lose control for once. Reminds me that you're only Human."

Spock raised his eyebrows again, this time in amusement at the Captain's assertion. Kirk laughed good naturedly at his own slipup and amended, "Well, that you are partly Human anyway."

"Indeed Captain," Spock said, feeling an irrational desire to smile back at the man. _Illogical_, he bereted himself again. Kirk had not said anything clever or kind enough to merit a display of emotion. Spock felt out of control, unfocused. He resolved to meditate at his earliest possible opportunity.

The mess hall was as how he had recalled it – the area in the furthest corner was completely destroyed. Tables were overturned and a dish was shattered under one of them. It had been shattered so violently that Spock's perceptive eyes could pick out pieces of it scattered over much of the room. The back wall, he saw with an unexpected pang of guilt and shame, was missing a few tiles at knee height where he knew that the Captain had collided with it.

He turned to see the Captain was staring at the same spot, rubbing one of his shoulders with the other hand. When he realized that Spock was looking at him, Kirk turned to give him a smile that clearly conveyed his relief at his continued good health. Grabbing a plate, the Captain ordered what Spock knew to be his Terran favorite, a hamburger, from the replicator and then went to sit at the nearest intact table. Spock did the same, under the Captain's watchful eye. He soon discovered that the replicator had not been fixed completely – every dish he ordered seemed to end up containing some derivative of ground beef.

Kirk gave him a sheepish smile, "I guess I had hamburgers on the brain when I did the repairs."

"Indeed," Spock said, very slightly amused.

It was not until he was sitting across from Kirk picking ground beef out of his garden salad that the Captain asked, "So, any idea how you ended up dousing yourself in Vulcan LSD then?"

"Trellium-D is hardly equivalent to the recreational ergoline drug to which you are referring Captain," Spock replied seriously. "Though it does have a similar addictive effect on Vulcans. I would suspect that once I was in contact with a small amount it is likely that I would have then endeavored to increase my exposure and thus, the effects."

"Still, I'm guessing you weren't down there because you fancied a high," Kirk said, his expression making it clear he was not in any way accusing Spock of drug abuse.

"Your assumption is accurate," Spock said, nodding. "Shortly after you left, I set myself to the task. I recall it being oddly calming. I then received a brief transmission from the Remans and then decided that it would be prudent to re-insulate the warp cores so that they might better maintain an operational temperature."

The Captain sat up suddenly, "The Remans? What did they want?"

"I believe," Spock said slowly. "That they called to request the co-ordinates of the Space Station."

"Huh," Kirk said, sinking back into his chair. "That was it?"

"As far as I recall Captain, though the entire memory is unclear, as is much of the day that followed."

"Hmm, we'll have to send them a message and ask then. So, have you remembered anything else yet?"

"Indeed not," Spock said quietly. "I would inform you if I had."

"Would you?" Kirk said, betraying surprise.

"Yes," Spock answered simply. Then, casting his eyes around the room, he said, "I must admit that I am curious about the events following our encounter here. I am perplexed as to how you managed to evade me long enough to conduct research on the compound to which I was exposed."

Kirk smiled, "I tricked you into going to the bridge and then I locked you in."

Spock was impressed, though he did not show it, saying, "And yet I did not wake up in the bridge."

As he said it, Spock felt the world around him dissolve again. _He was standing at the door of the bridge, pounding on it with his fists and raising dents like angry bull. He unleashed all of his rage of the reinforced doors, pouring all of his drug-induced anger into his arms as he felt his rage slowly slip away. Soon he was sitting in Jim's chair on the bridge, running his fingers up and down the arms in despair. He was ruined and he knew it, but more important he had ruined any relationship he might have had with Jim. He was worthless, a shame to his whole race…._

"_Spock_," the Captain was saying empathetically, waving a hand very close to his face.

Slowly the Vulcan regained his awareness, flushing slightly. "I apologize Captain, I was experiencing a new recognition of my time on the bridge."

"Oh?" Kirk was plainly intrigued. "Did you learn anything interesting?"

Spock took a moment to collect his thoughts before replying. "I believe I have, yes."

The Captain simply looked at him encouragingly and so Spock continued, "I believe I have gained insight into how I managed to avoid causing you mortal injury during out confrontation."

"Oh yeah?"

"Indeed. I believe it was because I did not….want…to," Spock said slowly, feeling his face burn at the admission. Kirk was considerate enough to act as if he had not noticed.

"I thought that trellium-D stuff got rid of all your logic though?" he asked through a mouthful of cow. "If it makes you really angry for no reason, why would it matter what you wanted?"

Cringing a bit at the Captain's eating, Spock explained, "I think you have misunderstood me Captain. It is my theory that I felt an emotion other than rage and that it kept me from damaging you irreparably."

"But, the trellium –"

"Trellium-D has an enraging effect on Vulcans," Spock said patiently. "However, as you pointed out earlier this afternoon, I am not a Vulcan."

It took a moment, but then Kirk understood. "You're Human as well," he said with dawning comprehension.

"Indeed. It would appear that while the parts of my mind that are Vulcan were incapacitated, my Human reasoning and emotion remained intact. They are both inherently weaker than their Vulcan equivalents, however, so I still was not in control."

The Captain whistled and leant back in his chair and said, grinning, "Sounds like your human side is a cool guy."

The corners of Spock's mouth tilted in the smallest of smiles, an event that did not go unnoticed by Kirk. Still smiling cockily, the Captain said, "Jesus Spock, what's gotten into you today? That hangover has addled your mind."

"To what are you referring Captain?"

"Oh come on Spock, for you you've been downright emotional all day. Blushing, smiling, you're acting strange, don't deny it."

Spock's eyebrows traveled up to his hairline, "I am impressed with your perceptiveness Captain."

"Hardly," Kirk said, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. Spock followed. "Even Bones would have said you were off today Spock."

"Indeed Captain," Spock replied calmly as they left the hall. "Trellium-D often has long term effects. I shall need to look it up in the ship's medical database to be sure, but I believe that these episodic memories I have been experiencing are another side effect."

"You don't say," Kirk said, looking thoughtful.

They walked in amicable silence to the turbolift. As Spock pressed the button that would send them back towards their quarters, Kirk turned to him with the air of somebody who had a secret they were bursting to tell. Spock thought that perhaps he was about to discover the source of the Captain's earlier agitation.

"So you don't remember anything after the bridge though?" he asked. Judging by the speed of his voice, Spock correctly guessed that the man was nervous.

"If you are referring to how I ended up spending the night in your quarters in only my undergarments," Spock actually had to fight to keep the amusement out of his voice at the look on the Captain's face, "I have not yet been able to recall, no."

There was a pause as the elevator swished into action. Spock broke it with the charitable, "I am assuming that the purpose of my disrobement was due to their contamination with the neurotoxin?"

"Obviously," Kirk said quickly. There was another awkward pause, which Spock finally broke again, reflecting as he did so that Kirk was right, he was acting very peculiarly today.

"Captain, your heart rate is elevated and you are flushed," Spock pointed out. "Forgive my presumption, but is there additional information you wished to share with me?"

Kirk gave him a look of incredulity, "How would you know that my heart rate is elevated."

"I can hear it," Spock explained easily.

"I don't believe it," the Captain muttered, looking vaguely distressed. For the first time Spock began to feel apprehensive – what had happened to make the normally confident Captain so unnerved?

His human emotions taking control again, Spock reached out to grab the other man's bruised wrist. Kirk's eyes flew to his face as Spock felt the same shock of heat spread over him as he had earlier that day. Embarrassed, Spock masked the gesture by turning the man's palm over and pressing his own thumb to Kirk's wrist.

The Captain's pulse was rapid, as he knew it would be. "I can assure you," Spock said as calmly as he could considering that with each beat of the Captain's heart he felt his own racing slightly quicker. He flushed. "I am not mistaken. Your heart is beating at an unusually high rate."

Kirk gave a long, appraising look and then suddenly spun his hand in Spock's so that the Vulcan's grip loosened and he could entwine their fingers. Spock gasped.

"Now to do you remember?" Kirk asked him, looking him defiantly in the eye. And in that instant he did.

_Cool skin pressed against his chest, his forehead, his hands and arms. That familiar beating pulse under his lips, those blue eyes locked on his own and then, then the intoxicating taste of the Human's mouth as his tongue claimed the weaker man's mouth forcefully. Different, better, so much better than Nyota. Both his Vulcan and Human emotions, in conflict all day, swelled in triumph. Their combined effect was too much. Cool hands on his burning skin sent him over the edge. The shards of reason he had left told him that it was unwise to betray so much emotion to his Captain, his Jim, but he could not care. Especially not when the pleasure seemed to be mutual. Half a year's worth of building affection for the man welled up as their eyes locked again and he wound their fingers together, both of them panting._

The vision faded, leaving Spock gasping for breath. Slowly Jim Kirk swam into focus in front of him, looking very much as if he expected to be thrown into a wall any second. "Welcome back," he said with a brave attempt at cockiness.

Spock stared at him, and then his eyes fell on their still-entwined hands. He went to pull away, but Jim held his grip firm. "I – I do not understand," Spock muttered, betraying more fear than he had intended to.

"Me neither," Jim said, far more at easy. Spock supposed that Humans in general, and James T. Kirk in particular, were much more at ease with a lack of comprehension than Vulcans.

"I apologize, Captain," Spock said finally, hanging his head and this time succeeding in parting their hands. "It would appear that I exhibited a great lack of discretion."

"Not all of your indiscretions were bad Spock," Jim repeated, sending him a puzzled, indecisive look. Then, with a cavalier look that Spock associated with the _Enterprise_'s imminent involvement in some impossible and dangerous undertaking, he stepped forward.

Spock stepped back against the wall of the turbolift, everything in his Vulcan upbringing telling him to end this illogical situation. The doors of the lift opened as Jim stepped toward him again, blocking his progress out. Spock briefly considered using his superior strength to escape, but when Jim's hand came up to push gently on his shoulder he found that he long longer wanted to leave. His own heart was racing as fast as his Captain's as the Human took his wrist in his hand and gently pressed their foreheads together.

Jim did not kiss him, however. Slowly, as their eyes locked in a searing gaze of illogical intensity he raised Spock's hand to the side of his face. Spock's eyes widened.

"Do it," Jim whispered, and the words were almost a dare, a reckless command.

The Vulcan gave him a searching look. It would be so easy to do it, to abandon logic, reason, and to give into the feelings he had not even known he had been denying himself all these months. He took in the defiant set of the man's shoulders, his nervous pursed lips and his blazing eyes. Then, with just the slightest rearrangement of his fingers, he gave Jim's mind a little push.

It was not a true meld, there was no need for that. A simple rush of emotion flooded his mind. Affection warred with confusion, lust with apprehension. Jim was as confused as he himself was, but also more confident. Excitement tinted all of his feelings that flowed into Spock. Through the haze created by this rush in his mind, he saw that Jim had closed his eyes and that his moth had fallen slightly open, one corner curved up in a smile. Spock knew that he was feeling the same emotions from him as he felt from Jim.

The elevator pinged, reminding them to disembark.

Suddenly the Human opened his eyes again, locking them on Spock's. A blaze of lust shot through Spock and he could not tell where his feeling ended and Jim's began, but it did not matter. The Human's eyes widened as he stared, waiting for Spock to act. Spock's willpower faltered for an instant, and that was all it took.

The hand that was not already on Jim's face came up to tangle in the man's hair and pulled his face closer. Their lips met softly, but with intensity that Spock could not have imagined from his limited experience with Human affections. He suddenly wondered if this was how Jim felt with each of the Starfleet cadets he had bedded in his days in training. Illogically, he found himself hoping it was not.

Cool hands were pushing him into the wall and Spock could not help it, he surrendered to their pressure. Cool hands roamed his body, finding their way under his uniform and through his hair with bewildering speed as Jim kissed along his neck, sucking and biting gently in a way that the Vulcan had never experienced. Spock reciprocated by hooking his leg around the back of the Captain's calf, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Kirk gasped, "_Spock._"

The elevator pinged again. Spock gave a soft growl of frustration and then, reaching behind Jim's slightly twisted leg, lifted his partner off his feet and lifted him bodily from the elevator. Jim's eyes widened and he wrapped his legs around the Vulcan instinctively. Spock's hand fell from his face, finally breaking their emotional connection. Spock held him up with one powerful arm as Jim crashed their lips together, immediately gaining entry to Spock's mouth. Their tongues battled for dominance as Spock took the few short steps to the Captain's quarters. Jim began to struggle to regain his footing without breaking their kiss and it was not until they had nearly reached the couch that he managed to free himself from the Vulcan's arms.

Jim broke the kiss suddenly, his roaming hand coming to rest on Spock's shoulder and pushing him back. The push was not strong enough to have toppled the Vulcan, but he fell back just the same, lying obediently out on the couch.

The Remans could wait, he decided. The ship could wait too. As Jim climbed on top of him, his hips pushing Spock deeper into the furniture as he tugged off his golden uniform, the Vulcan began to think that, at this rate, it might just take them all ten days to do the repairs after all.


	5. Aftermath II

Hey guys – here is the next chapter. Updates might be a bit sparse this week – I'm writing an exam on Thursday. I'll do my best, but don't think I've given up!

Also, this chappie has a little less K/S. Forgive me, but it's the _same day_. Something about keeping them in character prevents me from having them go at it like rabbits each chapter. Well, at least for Spock. *cough*

Some replies:

_yumi2482: _not my idea technically – it's actually canon. It's just not put to such…interesting uses….in the series. ;)

_Hikaru: _we'll see, we'll see – I have to be in an extremely writer-ish mood (clearly this is not now, haha) before I can write an M scene. I'm of the same opinion as you on it, really. I'm pretty sure I haven't written these characters enough to avoid making it sound like a cheap at-the-office porno. Oh good lord, bad images.

_Kelgadis:_ if you ever do, be sure to leave it in a review for me! :)

Thanks to _DizzyBaby, Chicapanzy, Mezzer 5.2, emuroo, mediwitch3_ (pudding?), _mildetryth, naruke3176, Rock and Sarcasm, Chimcha, Mars-Eclipse, Slashy Slashy goes the Canon _(I lol'd at your name btw, haha), _MattyLovesGames, wmonica, steph88NYC, Jord-El, Celestia, hpets, Exangeline, hey-yall-anime-me_ (no, it's not!), _underneaththesheets, lovefan81, Dreaming-of-A-Nightmare, neenabluegirl, Basia Orci _(I agree!), and _Teldra_ for their reviews – especially those of you who are consistant reviewers. I LOVE you guys. This chapter is for you. :)

**Life in the Neutral Zone**

_********************_

_**Stardate 2258.117**__. At the request of the Federation, the starship _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. On the way there, the ship encounters hostile Reman rebels. Striking up a temporary peace agreement, Kirk and Spock left to pilot the Enterprise out of danger on their own, in return for their crewmates' safe passage to the space station. Two days into their journey, the Captain and his First Officer make some startling discoveries. _

_********************_

When Jim awoke, tangled in the sheets on his bed, it took him a moment to remember how he had gotten there. When he remembered, his arm reached out instinctively for the man that should be beside him – but he was not there. A brief moment of unexpected panic shot through him and he sat up quicker than was probably necessary.

A moment later, relief washed over him as he caught sight of the cross-legged Vulcan sitting on his floor, hands placed together in front of him with his eyes closed. Jim stared at him, open-mouthed, for a second. Tilting his head and running his hand through his hair, Jim concluded that the man must be meditating. He noted with amusement and something like fondness that the man had only half redressed himself for the ritual – apparently Jim was allowed to see him shirtless.

That sorted out, Jim flopped back again onto his bed, trying not to make noise so that he didn't disturb the Vulcan. The fact that Spock hadn't left made him feel disgustingly giddy. He rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling, wondering what had gotten in to him. He was acting like a teenage girl.

Folding his hands behind his head lazily, Jim watched the ceiling, his mind oddly blank. If he listened very carefully he could hear the controlled breathing of the mediating First Officer at the foot of his bead. The moment was extremely peaceful and it was a long time before Jim could bring himself to look at the clock.

It was nearly dinnertime. _Damn_. He really had to work at some point today.

Extremely reluctantly, Jim sat up again. Spock did not appear to have moved since he had last checked. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of bed and pulled on his own Starfleet issue pants. Casting his eyes around for his shirt, he saw with amusement and annoyance that it was hanging off a lamp above Spock's head. He entertained himself for a moment by imagining it falling onto the meditating Vulcan's head and breaking his concentration. Then again, Spock looked so deep in meditation that he might not have noticed at all.

Shaking his head, Jim went over to the desk and scribbled Spock a note telling him he had gone to engineering to recover the Reman transmission from the previous day. Electing not to disturb the Vulcan, Jim grabbed a new shirt out of his drawer and pulled it over his head as he exited the room, grinning.

He was still feeling giddy and fuzzy when he entered the damaged engineering bay. He had the somewhat disturbing feeling that his mind was overloading on everything that had happened in the last two days and that explained the crazy that had overtaken him. For god's sake, this was _Spock_, he reminded himself for the millionth time. Uhura he could _maybe_ understand feeling giddy over. Hell, compared to Spock even Bones made more sense, considering he was a pretty good looking guy.

He fingers stopped, poised above the consol. He shook his head more violently than he had ever yet, wondering if he was developing some muscle tick as he did so. He absolutely had to stop thinking right then, before his thoughts got even more dangerous. Seriously if he started imagining sleeping with Bones –

"Guh!" he shuddered involuntarily, mentally slapping himself. He wondered if Spock was having this kind of trouble, but knew immediately that he wasn't. He'd probably spent all that time meditating carefully wrapping up the last few hours in several layers of logic and shipping it to the metaphorical island of irrational emotions in his brain.

Realizing that it would be poor sport for the Captain to go crazy when there were only two crew members on board, Jim resolutely punched him his access code to the consol.

"_Access Code: Captain James T. Kirk. Access granted,_" the computer blipped at him in a friendly sort of way, before pulling up the main access screen. Jim was impressed. Apparently before Spock had gone insane and got himself strung out on Vulcan mind juice he had managed to mostly repair the engineering computer system. Typical.

Well, he thought huffily as he flipped through the screens searching for the transmission and communication archives for the engineering deck, he had managed to fix the replicator system…mostly.

It took him several minutes more to find the archives. There were only a few records of communications on board in the last few days. Jim looked them over carefully to be sure, but in a few minutes he was sure that all of them were from either him or Spock to each other or to the computer. The last Reman transmission through the main computer had been the one in which they were ordered to surrender the crew.

Undaunted, Jim decided to check if he could find records of personal communication systems on board. Spock hadn't specified, but it was possible the Remans had managed to communicate with his own personal device.

Searching through the computer, he located a database of thousands of transmissions between crew members. He wondered if people knew that what they said in their communicators was automatically transcribed here as it was routed through the computer. He doubted it – he certainly hadn't until now.

Resolving to delete a few of the more incriminating records between himself and a particular sick bay nurse once he was done, he sifted though crew manifests until he hit upon Spock's record. Pulling it up, he was met with a puzzling discovery.

Spock's record was full of transmissions, as a First Officer's ought to be, until two days ago when the rest of the crew had left. After that, the number of transmissions reduced to absolutely zero. There were no communications of any kind from the device, from the Remans or otherwise. Bemused, Jim decided to try searching by date, pulling up all communications from the previous day.

The first record that came up he quickly identified as his own attempt at communicating with Spock. The record read "_CPTN KIRK to CMDR SPOCK: TRANSMISSION FAILED (Device not activated)._"

Raising his eyebrows, Jim recalled Spock saying his communicator was not working. Perhaps, he mused, it was not connecting to the computer correctly. He'd hardly be surprised, given the abuse it must have withstood during Spock's little rampage through the ship. He kept looking.

The next entry made him stop short. A sudden apprehension filled him as he read the troubling report. It read "_CMO MCCOY (EXTERNAL) to UNASSIGNED: Transmission completed._"

_McCoy_? Jim stared at the words incredulously. Bones would know better than to provoke the Remans, as he surely would by communicating with Jim.

Than again, he thought as his confusion increased, Bones _hadn't _communicated with him. He had called…..somebody else. The word UNASSIGNED blinked tantalizingly up at him, and Jim knew he'd had to hear the transmission to make sense of all this. He selected the entry and an audio recording began to play immediately.

"_McCoy to Spock. Come in Mr. Spock,"_ said a voice, unmistakably Bones. Jim's heart beat a little faster – he had not realized how much he missed his friend until that moment.

There was a sound of ruffling static as a communicator was pulled from a pocket. Jim waited with anticipation to hear who would answer, wondering if perhaps they had a stowaway, or worse.

"_This is Commander Spock,"_ said the voice, and it clearly was. Jim's brow furrowed and he stared harder at the UNASSIGNED still mocking his intellect silently on the screen.

"_Dr. McCoy, do you think it wise to be conversing?"_ Spock continued, asking the same question Jim had. _"Surely the Remans will not appreciate this seeming attempt at conspiracy."_

Bones laughed, a little more harshly than Jim thought was normal. _"Oh they'll be fine with it,"_ he said sarcastically. _"They're the ones who asked me to call you in the first place. Apparently they are having trouble getting a channel open with the main computer." _

"_That is highly irregular," _Spock responded at once and there was a clearly audible tapping and beeping as he accessed the ships main system. _"All the systems appear to be working satisfactorily Doctor."_

"_Yeah, I know,"_ Bones agreed. _"They just can't get it to go."_

"_Perhaps, Ensign Chekov –"_ Spock began, but Bones cut him off.

"_They won't let him try. I think they are worried he'll sabotage their ships or something,"_ Bones complained.

"_Perhaps," _Spock began again, but again he was interrupted.

"_Spock,"_ Bones said, and suddenly his voice was strained. _"Please just take their transmission."_

There was something slightly off about Spock's voice too as he replied, _"Of course."_

A moment later a very different voice replaced Bones. It was harsh and alien. _"First Officer Spock,"_ the Reman said.

"_This is he,"_ Spock sounded as professional as ever, but Jim could not help thinking his voice was strange.

"_Excellent,"_ the Reman said, seeming to genuinely mean it. That didn't bode well. _"This is Captain Valik of the Reman Republic."_ Jim could not help rolling his eyes at the predictable name that they had chosen for themselves.

"_I come to serve,"_ Spock said in acknowledgement.

"_Your service honors us, Vulcan brother,"_ the Captain gave the polite reply. _"We are calling to request the correct coordinates of the Earth Station to which you want your crew to be transported."_

"_I was under the impression,"_ Spock said slowly, _"that you already knew of its position. Did you not inform the Captain of its proximity to your space boundaries yesterday?"_

"_I think you had better give us them again Spock," _the Reman said calmly.

'_That is highly illogical,"_ Spock said, but he did not seem to be disagreeing.

"_I think," _the Reman said extremely slowly, _"that you should give them to us again Spock. Don't you agree?"_

"_I…of course,"_ Spock replied equally slowly, and there was definitely something wrong with him now. Jim felt a coil of apprehension settle in his stomach like a deadly snake.

"Excellent," the Reman said again. Spock gave him the coordinates. "Wonderful, Mr. Spock, you have been very helpful. May I ask how the repairs are going?"

"The ship is heavily damaged," Spock said indifferently, almost dreamily. "We are repairing it at a rate that is slower than I would have desired."

"_My, my, that _is_ unfortunate,"_ the Reman said, sounding as if Spock had just offered to hand over the Enterprise as a house warming gift. _"I trust you are working on your warp drive?"_

"_I have thus far been unable to repair the nacelles,"_ Spock said dully. _"There appears to be a compound that is eroding the insulation that I have been unable to neutralize."_

"_A common Romulan trick,"_ the Reman said in a commiserating tone. Jim recognized the lie – he had never even heard of such a chemical – but Spock appeared to take it at face value. Valik continued, _"We have found trellium-D to be an effective solution."_

Jim's eyebrows shot into his hair as Spock replied, _"I do not think that would be practical in the Enterprise's case, as that type of insulation can have detrimental effects on the Vulcan nervous system."_

"_Oh no,"_ the Reman said, blasé in the extreme. _"You are confusing it with trellium-A."_

"_I do not believe –"_

"_Yes Spock,"_ Valik said in that strange, slow voice again. It was almost melodious – his words certainly had a beat to them. _"I believe you are."_

There was a long pause and then Spock replied, _"Yes, I must be."_

Jim's jaw dropped. He could have sworn he heard a gasp on the Reman end of the transmission, but it was quickly muffled. Spock did not appear to notice.

"_Indeed," _Valik said convincingly. _"You should go try that. Right now."_

"_Of course,"_ Spock said dazedly. _"I must go. Live long and prosper Captain Valik."_

"_Peace and long life, Vulcan brother,"_ Valik replied in a voiced laced in sarcasm and the transmission ended.

Jim sat rooted to his chair, his eyebrows still raised and his mouth still open. What the devil had that been about, he wondered. Why had Spock listened to them?

Jim quickly transferred the communication record to his datapad and swiftly left engineering. He rose slowly in the turbolift, trying to make sense of what he had heard. Unease had settled over him like a fog as he felt his trust of the Remans evaporate. They had clearly wanted to Spock to get into the trellium-D.

"But _why_?" he asked aloud as the doors pinged open. Frustration made his walking quicker as he traced his steps back to his quarters.

Spock was sitting at Jim's desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with his broken communicator. As Jim entered, the Vulcan looked up and the tension in his face was replaced by thinly concealed amusement. "Hello Captain."

Jim was not prepared for the affect that simple, subtle look had on him and he stopped just inside the door. All though of Remans was momentarily driven from his mind as he involuntarily began to imagine what Spock would do if he asked for a round two. A moment later he recovered enough to smirk, "What that's it?"

Spock's mouth fell into a confused frown, though his eyebrows arched in an amused way that Jim realized indicated he was not upset. "I am unsure what you mean, Captain."

"It's Jim," he reminded the Vulcan sternly. "To be honest, I was kind of expecting some morning-after awkwardness here."

"It is not yet the evening," Spock pointed out. Jim could have sworn the look that Spock gave him was almost playful.

"You know what I mean," Jim said, trying not get sidetracked by the fact that his heart was doing cartwheels in his chest.

"I get the feeling that Vulcan don't do that," he waved his hand at his bed vaguely, "very often. Am I wrong?"

"Indeed not," Spock replied, a slight crease appearing between his eyes. "I will not deny that the experience was novel. I have spent much of the afternoon meditating on that very subject."

"And?" Jim asked, not sure he wanted to know. Slowly he became aware that his head was throbbing with a dull pain.

"I have concluded that I am not sure it was wise," he began, and Jim's brows pulled together. "However, I am not sure it was unwise either."

"Oh, well that's helpful," Jim said, perplexed.

"Indeed it was," Spock replied. When Jim looked skeptical, Spock clarified, "I have, in effect, concluded that to be intimate with you is neither inherently logical nor illogical. There are many possible arguments both in favor and against."

"There are?" Jim said incredulously.

"Indeed," the Vulcan said calmly, his eyes returning to communicator in his hands. "It is certainly logical that gaining a deeper understanding of you will help our partnership of command."

Jim's mouth twitched. "A deeper understanding?" he said, his eyebrows quirked. Spock simply stared at him.

"Never mind," he said, rolling his eyes. His head was really starting to hurt. "What about Uhura?"

Spock hesitated only briefly before admitting, "Ensign Uhura has indicated that she is disinclined to continue our personal relationship."

Jim whistled and tried to look something other than gleeful. "That suck," he said, somewhat lamely.

"Spock looked at him a bit despairingly for a moment before nodding and agreeing, "It was a most unfortunate misunderstanding."

Jim really wanted to, but he decided that prying would be a bad choice at that point. "About us though," he continued instead, "I just thought that Vulcan's were kind of…_prudes_."

Spock raised his eyebrow in plain amusement now. "Indeed, if I were to court you in a purely Vulcan manner then intimate relations would be out of the question. I will have to request you be discrete about the explicitly personal nature of our relationship, Jim. However, it would be illogical for me to be unreceptive of Human courting behavior, given I am as Human as I am Vulcan."

"How logical of you," Jim said, his mind reeling from the number of euphemisms the Vulcan had just thought up to avoid actually saying 'sex'.

"I am pleased you see it that way," the Vulcan said with apparent sincerity. "Is there something you require?"

"Hmm?" Jim had been staring at Spock's mouth as it talked and had kind of lost track of the conversation.

"You are holding a datapad," Spock prompted helpfully, and Jim remembered why he had hurried up here. Stupid befuddling Vulcan. He shoved the pad at Spock, some of his urgency returning.

"I recovered the transmission you got down in engineering," he informed the First Officer. "It was very strange, to say the least."

Together they listened to the tape play over Jim's computer. Spock's eyes slowly widened as the conversation continued. When it finished, Spock turned to him in thinly disguised alarm.

"So, any theories?" Jim said, rubbing his temples as his head pounded.

"No," Spock said, surprising him. "The Reman's knowledge of trellium-D may have been a legitimate error – it is not found in Romulan space. However, my compliance with their suggestion is most suspicious."

"Not to mention your lack of memory of the whole damn conversation," Jim managed.

"Captain, are you alright?" Spock asked, noticing Jim's discomfort.

"Yeah, I've just got a raging headache is all."

Spock considered him for a second. "Might I suggest that you get some sleep, Captain?"

"Jim," Jim interrupted.

"Jim," Spock agreed. "You have had a very physically involved two days with a regrettable lack of sleep, which may be the source of your malaise."

"Physically involved?" Jim wiggled his eyebrows. Even with a raging headache he couldn't pass up that opportunity. Spock, however, ignored him. Jim tried not to whine as he pointed out, "Oh come on Spock, you can't just expect me to go to sleep when the Remans are up to god knows what. I'm fine."

"You are not," Spock said, rising from the desk and reaching for Jim's hand. Jim stared at him as he pressed their fingers together. The familiar warmth spread up his arm and the pain in his head lessened a bit. Deciding Spock wasn't likely to run away if he did, Jim leant forward and rested their foreheads together.

"Yes, I am," he said stubbornly. Then, because he really couldn't resist it, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to the Vulcan's gently. Spock's lips twitched into the smallest of smiles and pressed back softly. Jim thought his already painful head might just explode from the rush of emotion that that caused.

"I understand that such standards of personal care are not typical for you," Spock replied, pulling back. Jim, his eyes still closed, was pretty sure he'd been insulted. "However, I do not require the same amount of restorative rest as a Human, so I will continue to try to discern the motives of Captain Valik and his Republic with regards to our ship. Does this set your mind at ease?"

"A bit," Jim admitted, opening his eyes and pulling away reluctantly. He released their hands slowly and sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling off his shirt.

He was pleased to see the Vulcan looking a shade greener than usual as his eyes traveled briefly over Jim's exposed chest. He said, "Very well. I will wake you if something suitably urgent should occur."

"Yeah," Jim crawled under the covers, too tired to change his pants. Stupid convincing, sexy Vulcan. "Yeah, you do that."

He heard Spock rise from the desk. The cool pillow was unbelievably soothing for his aching mind. His eyes closed again gratefully as the Vulcan collected the pieces of his communicator from Jim's desk and placed them carefully in a cloth bag. Jim felt the tension behind his eyes begin to ease as his brows unfurled and very soon, before Spock had finished cleaning up and left, he was asleep.


	6. On Board

Hey all – quick update for you guys midweek. My exam is on Thursday (incidentally, I slipped in an Organic Chemistry reference in this chapter if you want to guess. shout-outs if you get it right…) – so I could use some good vibes if you feel like sending any my way!

Some replies to my awesome reviewers,

_Aoi Hinode:_ Funny you should say that. If you read the Wikipedia article (yes, I'm _that cool_) entitled Kirk/Spock you might find some interesting things to support that theory.

_mou:_ You'd think that, wouldn't you? However, from what I gather you can run a Starship with two people (or in the case of the Voyager episode "One", one half-robot and a hologram) so long as its kind of just going in a straight line and not doing much. I think if Spock and Kirk want to do anything but drift on the coordinates Checkov set them to, they're going to need help.

_Hikaru:_ something like that. And thank _you_. :)

_underneaththesheets:_ I'm going to use "Oh My Star Trek!" sometime. And just for that I have included a leeetle plot bunny scene at the very beginning for you

Thanks to _Secret Thought, Fitful Fantasy_ (yeah, probably not!), _mildetryth, Exangeline_ (thanks!), _hpets, Chimcha, AncientHistory, steph88NYC, QueenOfSparrabeth, wmonica, Jord-El, Loesje _(wow, thanks!), _lovefan81, Kelgadis, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Basia Orci, _and _signofthetimes_ for taking the time to review. Reviews keep me writing (even when I really need to study – gah!) so this one is for you guys. :)

**Life in the Neutral Zone**

_********************_

_**Stardate 2258.115**__. At the request of the Federation, the starship _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. On the way there, the ship encounters hostile Reman rebels. Striking up a temporary peace agreement, Kirk and Spock left to pilot the Enterprise out of danger on their own, in return for their crewmates' safe passage to the space station. Three days into their journey they have some unexpected guests._

_********************_

Smooth, hot hands pinned him into the Starfleet regulation bed, which creaked and moaned under the onslaught it was enduring. Jim squirmed in pleasure as Spock's mouth did unseemly things to his earlobe. Then, apparently catching on to the hammering pulse in Jim's neck, the Vulcan started to descend toward his collarbone. Not for the first time, Jim was extremely thankful that the rest of the crew was gone – if the incredible sensations coming from his neck were any indication, he'd have some killer hickeys the next morning.

Wanting to reciprocate but completely unwilling to have Spock stop what he was doing, Jim settled for cupping the Vulcan's head and rubbing his fingers over the other's pointy ears. Apparently this was a very good idea, because the other man _growled_ into his chest and raised his head to press their lips together hungrily. Jim couldn't help but think that he didn't mind Spock bottling up his emotions so much if _this_ was how he chose to release them.

"Mmhmm," he moaned as Spock's tongue ran across the roof of his mouth, sending a wave of heat though his whole body. One of the Vulcan's hands found one of his wrists, pinning his arm above his head. Hot fingers splayed out over his own and where they met there was a familiar pleasant tingling. Jim tangled his other hand possessively in the Vulcan's dark hair, pulling not-so-gently as their tongues battled for control.

Spock's other hand was roving dangerously over Jim's body. His shirt was pushed up so high it was basically off and Spock's talented fingers pushed in just the right places to make him shiver all over.

He knew what the man was up to a second before he did it, but that did not stop him from gasping as Spock's warm fingers pinched around his sensitive nipple. For a moment he was completely unable to breathe as his skin tingled and his heart hammered from the touch. He broke their kiss, panting. When he opened his eyes it was to see Spock's face, hovering inches from his own, wearing that damn sexy smirky-eyebrow-quirky face that Jim knew meant he was amused. Jim noted with displeasure that the Vulcan's hand had stopped moving.

"_What?_" he gasped in annoyance, sure that the Vulcan was going to come up with some highly intellectual observations about human nerve endings or something.

However, Spock didn't reply. Instead, exceedingly slowly and with his eyes locked on Jim's, he lowered his head and then his hand was replaced with his hot, wet mouth. Jim moaned louder than he'd like to admit, but he couldn't help it. His fingers curled tighter in the Vulcan's hair and he pressed his hips up against Spock's greedily. The Vulcan replied by moving his mouth again lower, to Jim's stomach. Nipping teeth and tongue assaulted his cool skin, making him sweat and twist.

Spock's hand above his head finally was forced to let go as the Vulcan reached Jim's belly button. (The extremely small part of his brain that was still coherent wondered suddenly if Spock even _had_ a belly button. Usually by the time he had the chance to find out he was in no state to care. He'd have to check.) The recently departed hand started to fiddle with his Starfleet pants and Jim writhed in anticipation as the button slowly came undone. Spock looked up at him then, his hand resting against the very obvious bulge in the Captain's pants in an absurdly possessive way. His eyes were dark with lust as his mouth curved into the very smallest of smiles.

"Jim," he said fondly.

"Mmhmm?" Jim hummed semi-coherently. That pressure was surprisingly distracting.

"Jim," Spock said again, and this time it was a little less fond and a lot more stern. "_Captain._"

Jim jerked awake with a start. His cabin lights were off and that was a very good thing because his hands were in a somewhat compromising position and there was a very all-business Vulcan silhouetted at the foot of his bed. Jim tried to slide his hands nonchalantly out from under the covers, though he knew the sound would be completely audible to those pointed ears anyway, and muttered "Computer, lights on."

Light filled the room and Jim had to squint for a second before he could see properly. Trying to sound like he hadn't just been imagining his First Officer's mouth doing lewd things to his still-very-hard nipples, Jim said briskly, "Anything wrong Spock?"

Apparently that had come out a bit too energetically because Spock sent him the same knowing, amused look he had imagined a few moments earlier. This did not help his focus any as the Vulcan then relayed his message, "I have completed the repairs to the communication system Captain."

Jim sent him a look.

"Jim," Spock amended, now looking slightly amusedly at the pillow that Jim had surreptitiously pulled onto his lap. "I feel it would be prudent to contact Starfleet Command to apprise them of our situation."

"Oh…kay," Jim said slowly, not understanding why he had been woken up, unless Spock was just a twisted dream cock-blocker.

Sensing his question, the Vulcan continued, "I thought your presence would be prudent, as Starfleet will very likely wish to speak with you and I thought it would be needlessly reckless to have to inform them why you were still in bed at well past midday."

Jim whipped around to face his clock. The time 12:34 blinked mockingly back at him. No. _Way_. He stared at the numbers for a few seconds. There was_ no way_ he'd been asleep that long. Except, of course, apparently he had. He took a moment to puzzle out what the Vulcan had told him.

"So, you think we shouldn't tell them about the trellium-D? Or just about us?" he could not help quirking his eyebrows at Spock as he said it.

"Until we have proof that my exposure to the neurotoxin was anything but an accidental misunderstanding, I do not believe we should inform Starfleet, no. The resources that would be diverted to us should they think that I had been compromised are needed elsewhere and their delivery would risk breaching our treaty with the Remans," he said, very quickly even for Spock.

Jim blinked. He could have sworn the Vulcan seemed almost _embarrassed_. There was a brief silence in which Jim puzzled it over, and then he decided the first officer was right. He could only imagine all the paperwork he'd have to fill out.

_Incident: Vulcan crew member exposed to trellium-D  
Date of Incident: 2258.114_

_Cause of Incident: Unknown_

_Damages/Delays Incurred from Incident: broken railings/doors/tables, loss of one half of active crew, Captain suffering from bruises/concussion/hickeys/recurrent flashbacks_

Jim coughed aloud. No, that really wasn't a report he wanted to write.

******************

They met on the bridge twenty minutes later, Spock having mercifully left to give Jim some time to 'make himself presentable'. The Captain was now sprawled over his chair in his usual casual manner, Spock standing as straight and stiff as a lamppost beside him. Jim could not help himself as he rolled his eyes at the First Officer before saying, "Computer, contact Starfleet Command."

The view-screen flickered and fuzzed for a moment before the welcome face of Admiral Pike swam into view. The older man's face registered first surprise and then relief as he realized who had hailed him.

"Captain Kirk!" he exclaimed, "We were beginning to think you had dropped off the edge of the galaxy!"

"You can't get rid of me that easily Admiral," Jim said amicably. He quickly informed the Admiral of the incident with the Remans, the state of the ship and crew and their plan of action. Pike was very interested as to how the Romulan's had managed to penetrate their ships defenses so quickly and Jim had to explain the embarrassing discovery that phaser torpedoes couldn't be fired at warp. When he finished he noted with apprehension that the Admiral did not look pleased.

"So, you left your entire crew with the people who attacked you?" Pike asked simply, his eyebrows raised.

"Uh, yes," Jim said uncomfortably. When you put it _that way_….

"If I may speak Admiral," a confident voice came from above him. "It was necessary. Due to a malfunction with the _Enterprise_'s own weaponry the ship was left highly compromised. Any further attack by the Remans would have resulted in a complete loss of structural integrity. It was a choice between evacuating the crew as requested or condemning them all immediately to death."

Damn but Jim liked having Spock on his side. Admiral Pike was studying the First Officer now with undisguised curiosity, undoubtedly wondering why they were getting along so well. The First Officer fidgeted ever so slightly under the scrutiny and Pike's look turned to one of surprise. Finally, he apparently decided that he ought to reply.

"Hmm…" he mused, tapping his fingers on his chair. "I am inclined to agree with you Mr. Spock."

Jim relaxed a bit.

"However," the Admiral continued, and Jim tensed again. "I think we ought to send you some backup in case those Remans turn out to be less friendly than we'd like."

"With all due respect Admiral," Spock injected as Jim opened his mouth to speak, cutting him off. "It would be unadvisable to send ships to 'back us up' as you say, seeing that the Remans have agreed not to attack us providing we do not show any aggression. I think that the arrival of Federation ships would alarm them."

Jim glared up at Spock for a second before saying pointedly, "Exactly what _I was going to say_, Mr. Spock."

Spock looked down at him and apparently realized that he was overstepping his command again, because he nodded and actually took a physical step back. Jim almost regretted it as the Vulcan's presence beside him disappeared.

"At our current maximum warp, we expect to reach the Earth Station and rendezvous with the crew in about seven days," Jim informed the Admiral to cover up the sticky moment.

Pike nodded slowly. "Alright Jim, I'll trust you on this one. Mr, Spock, I expect you to use your knowledge of that area of space to get you out of there by the quickest route possible. Jim, we're going to need updates whenever you get any new information. I'll have our Engineering Department at the Academy send you over detailed repair walkthroughs for your damaged systems – let's see if we can't up your warp capability a bit."

"Yes Sir," Jim said. "Thank you."

"Good luck," the Admiral added. "Pike out."

The screen flickered and went out, leaving only the white trails of stars streaking, albeit slowly, past. As soon as the Admiral disappeared, Spock spoke.

"I must apologize to you Captain," the Vulcan said. "I did not mean to interfere with your communications with Admiral Pike."

Jim sighed and leant back in his chair, legs thrown over one side casually. He eyed his First Officer sternly, but the annoyance he had expected was not there. Finally he conceded, "It's alright Spock, you were right after all. Thanks for defending me, I guess."

Spock continued to look troubled and from the flexing of his forearms Jim guessed he was wringing his hands behind his back. For the second time in less than an hour Jim couldn't help but think that the Vulcan was acting very strange, very….expressively.

"What's gotten into you Spock?" he asked, concerned.

"Captain?" Spock replied in confusion.

"I just mean, you've been acting very emotional lately, wouldn't you say? Are you doing it on purpose?"

"To what are you referring Captain?" Spock said, and Jim _knew_ this time that he was embarrassed. The pointy tips of his ears had flushed dark green.

"_That_," he replied as he waved his hand at Spock's flushed face demonstratively. "Normally you're impossible to read, but I've known what you were thinking all day. Look at you, ears all green and stuff."

Spock's hands left his back and one came up to touch the tip of one of his ears.

'And _that_! Since when have you been so self conscious? The way you went all fidgety in front of Pike, I'm surprised he didn't ask you himself what's wrong," Jim was scrutinizing his First Officer closely now. "Not to mention the whole being-with-you-makes-sense-Jim thing. I'll eat my uniform if that wasn't at least _a little_ emotionally driven."

Spock blinked at him, the colour slowly draining from his ears and cheeks until he was composed again. "All very astute observations on your part Captain. I now regret not informing you immediately. I should have realized that you could not fail to notice my uncharacteristic behaviour."

Spock almost muttered the last sentence to himself. Jim raised his eyebrows and sat up straight in his chair, "Informing me of _what_ Spock?"

He felt suddenly and bizarrely like a schoolteacher that had just caught his pupils whispering in class. Spock swallowed and raised his eyes to meet Jim's. They were apologetic as he said, "I should have informed you that exposure to large quantities of trellium-D often has long-lasting effects on a Vulcan's neural circuits."

His First Officer sighed resignedly, as if he had just told a disgraceful secret, but Jim was still confused. "Okay," he said slowly, drawing it out over two syllables. "What does that mean?"

"You have already noticed my increased emotionality," Spock continued, his eyes staring inexplicably off into the void of space on the screen. "It is likely that the neurotoxin has compromised my ability to inhibit emotion. As you mentioned, I have already found it difficult to make purely logical decisions…even when those decisions have possibly serious consequences. It is very uncharacteristic of my race."

"So what you're saying is," Jim tried to understand. "You aren't thinking logically?"

Spock raised his eyebrows. "Indeed not. I am not thinking logically for a Vulcan," he corrected. "My reasoning is, forgive me, still far more logical than a typical Human."

"Oh, of course," Jim said, settling back into his chair. "Well, that doesn't seem like too big a deal to me."

Spock sent him a look that practically dared him to repeat that. "From a command point of view anyway," he added hastily.

"It does matter," Spock said firmly, distress creeping back into his voice almost imperceptibly. "It has compromised my ability to be impartial. When I challenged the Admiral today, it was not because I thought our decision was a truly sound one, but because I did not like that he was insinuating you were an ineffective decision maker."

Jim smiled, trying to reassure the Vulcan. "Did it ever occur to you that loyalty to your Captain might be a good thing?"

Spock looked at him seriously. "I was not reacting to an insult to my Captain, _Jim_."

Jim suddenly understood and he smiled wider, despite the glower he was receiving in response. Spock had reacted that way because it was Jim being insulted. Not James Kirk his Captain, but Jim his…lover? The word sounded weird connected to the Vulcan. Against all logic it sounded too vulgar a description for the connection they had, though Jim couldn't say why.

Jim reached out and took one of Spock's dangling hands, entwining their fingers briefly before letting go. The Vulcan equivalent of a chaste kiss – Jim wasn't quite sure what had made him do it. Spock stared down at him in surprise.

A consol in front of them beeped, drawing their eyes away from each other. It was Checkov's station. Spock took the few meters to it in three steps, swiveling into the chair. He was abruptly all business again. He punched a few buttons quickly and then said, "We're being hailed Captain."

Jim, who had watched this flurry of motion with his mouth slightly open, snapped around in his chair so that he was facing the view-screen again. "Remans?" he demanded.

"No," Spock said. "The signal is from a Federation issue escape pod. Scanners are picking up several on the horizon. They are less than a light-year ahead of us"

Excitement trilled through Jim. "On screen," he demanded eagerly.

The face that flickered into being there was not a member of Jim's crew, however. Instead a decidedly blue and aged Andorian looked just as eagerly back at him. The alien was so excited, his antennae were quivering. "Greetings!" he said immediately, "To whom are I speaking?"

"I could ask you the same question," Jim said, disappointment briefly making him obstinate.

"I am Lalor," the Andorian supplied. "Of the Federation Cargo Ship Grignard."

"Captain James T. Kirk, of the Starship Enterprise," Jim replied in kind. The Andorian nearly jumped out of his seat in excitement. "This is my First Officer Commander Spock. May I ask how you came to be in an escape pod in this area of space?"

"We have fled our ship," Lalor said quickly. "It was not safe there. We feared for our lives, so we escaped."

"Please explain," Jim prompted, as Spock's eyebrows snapped together.

"Our ship was tasked with the transport of several hundred Vulcan refugees to the new colony that is being set up for them. Though you would know all about that," Lalor said graciously and Jim realized he must know about the _Enterprise'_s involvement in the Nero debacle. Spock had sat up very straight. "Everything was fine until we entered this area of space and were attacked by Romulan warships."

Jim and Spock sent each other dark looks as Lalor ploughed on, "They did not do enough damage to disable the ship, but their weapons caused considerable damage. Our ship was left entirely without propulsion ability. We soon discovered that our storage bay had been raided during the attack and the only insulating material left to us was a variety that is also a dangerous neurotoxin to Vulcanoid species."

"Trellium-D," Jim growled, tensing up. For the first time he felt sure that Spock's incident could not have been an accident.

"The very same, Sir," the Andorian said in surprise. "Once we discovered what it was, we knew we could not use it. We tried every alternative, but none were effective in restoring even our thrusters. We were left to wait for a passing ship to rescue us."

Lalor paused, his antennae drooping slightly. He sighed. "What happened next we are not entirely sure. We believe it was a few over-zealous young Vulcans who believed that they had discovered a way to handle the trellium-D without adverse effects. They were mistaken and they were affected. Though their actions the toxin spread rapidly through the refugees."

Spock had gasped, and both Jim and Lalor looked at him. He was very tense. "How many?" he asked. "How many were lost?"

"Lost?" Jim said, confused.

"Captain," Spock said, turning in his chair. "Do you recall what happened when I was exposed?"

Lalor made a noise of interest but Jim ignored him. "Vividly," he answered cheekily.

"Imagine the effect of hundreds of uninhibited Vulcans together…such a thing is not meant to happen," Spock turned back to the Andorian, wiping the smile off of Jim's face and leaving him to contemplate Spock's words. If Spock's actions were any indication, there would have been a lot of fighting, very quickly.

"How many?" Spock repeated.

"As far as we know all are dead, along with many of my men" the Andorian hung his head sadly. Spock's knuckles tightened on the consol. Jim's head spun imagining the bloodbath it would take to kill hundreds of Vulcans. No wonder they had fled.

"How many are you?" Jim asked Lalor through the shocked silence radiating from his First Officer.

"Five escape pods of ten persons, Captain," the Andorian replied in a subdued voice. "Just over half of the crew."

"I'm assuming you'd like to come aboard?" Jim asked briskly.

"If it is not too much of a burden," Lalor replied.

"Far from it, we may need you as urgently as you need us," Jim said, the gears of his mind spinning. Quickly he relayed their story to the Andorian, leaving out only the more personal content. "So as you can see, we could use some extra hands. You may dock your ships in our empty escape pod bays for now. I will meet you there."

"Thank you, Captain," Lalor said before he flickered off screen.

Jim and Spock stood at the same time. He turned to his First Officer. "I'm going to ask you to stay here Spock."

The Vulcan seemed to be fighting with all his might to keep him emotions in check. "Why?" he said, probably more harshly than he intended.

"Because," Jim said evenly. "Every man, woman and child on board that ship is probably contaminated with trellium-D. I think it would be prudent for you to stay away for now, don't you agree?"

Spock stiffened, but then nodded, his jaw clenched.

"I think," Jim said slowly. "We should begin looking for the Remans as soon as these Andorians can help us get the repairs done. I'm starting to worry that our crew isn't as safe as we'd like – though letting the Remans onto our suspicions by hailing them would be foolish. Right now I'm just hoping they don't notice us re-stocking our crew. If you could start putting together a repairs plan?"

Spock did not look pleased to be cooped up in the bridge, but he nodded again. Jim turned to go. He had nearly made it to the door when Spock spoke, his voice all but cracking, "Jim."

The Captain turned. Spock looked at him beseechingly, "The cargo vessel, we must find it. There may yet be survivors."

"_Spock_," Jim began, but Spock interrupted him.

"There are very few Vulcan's left Jim," the First Officer said hotly. "Each one is crucial to the continuance of our species."

Jim looked at him, taking in the balled fists and the creased brows. He sighed. "Alright, we'll go, providing its possible and it won't put us in unreasonable danger."

Spock relaxed slightly. "Thank you Captain," he said. He whirled on the spot and resumed his seat in Checkov's chair, getting immediately to work. Only the tense set of his shoulders betrayed his continued distress.

Sighing again, Jim turned back out the doors of the bridge and headed to the escape pods.


	7. Making Sense

Hey guys – thanks for your patience while I was studying. My exam is finally done, hurray!

Some replies:

_Hikaru:_ Ok, ok, I'll think about it! I agree about Spock, times are tough on a Vulcan. Glad you are liking it. ;0)

_Underneaththesheets: _that it does, that it does. Hopefully it's worth it? ;0)

_wmonica:_ rant I know, but I was being simplistic for the non-Voyager fans. I have to admit that I'm a Voyager girl myself, though TOS is my next fav. I didn't get the idea from the episode per se, but it reassured me that my idea wasn't totally crazy, haha. If you read carefully, you'll probably see a bunch of Voyager stuff in here (I keep having to go research if something existed in TOS or not – I _seriously_ wish they had holodecks!). /end rant

_:_ I generally write stuff as I see it happening in my head. So this might sound crazy, but I imagine reading my fics (providing I write them well enough) is a lot like watching the movie going on in my head. It's been terrible studying, because suddenly the next "scene" will jump into my head and then I have to go write it out before I lose it. Sorry about the waits! :0)

Shout outs to _mildetryth, Chimcha, Jord-El, Tie-dyed Trickster, mou, yumi2482, matakishi_ (I know, you guys are all awesome!), _Kirihana _(well I'm really glad I didn't ruin the section for you, haha!), _steph88NYC, MoonRose91, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, hpets, signofthetimes _and_ lovefan81 _for reviewing. This chapter is for you guys. :)

**Life in the Neutral Zone**

_**Stardate 2258.120**__. At the request of the Federation, the _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the _Enterprise_ is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. An encounter with Reman rebels leaves Jim and Spock the only ones on board, until they pick up some Andorian refugees. _

***********************

Andorians, it soon became clear to Jim, did not get along with Vulcans very well. He was reminded of this multiple times throughout the next few days. Their new Andorian crew members were nothing but cordial and kind towards Jim and he found them quite engaging conversationalists, but his First Officer was having a much different experience.

"It is a matter of culture," Spock had explained to him three days into the Andorians' stay. The Vulcan was sitting on the couch in his quarters with an electric three-tiered chessboard in front of him. Jim was at Spock's desk flipping half heartedly through a long report from Starfleet on how best to repair communicators, as Spock's broken one lay forlornly beside the Vulcan on the couch. In reality Jim was spending more time watching Spock. The Vulcan would sit motionless for several minutes each turn. Once he had decided the most logical move, he would reach out one long-fingered hand and move the piece carefully. The computer would take a few seconds to decide on its own move, Spock would move the desired piece and then the process would repeat itself. Jim found it quite fascinating, in stark contrast with his own intuitive style of play.

"Andorians and Vulcans have a history of conflict, regardless of our current peaceful interactions," the First Officer had explained as he slid a rook across the board. "As you have certainly gathered, Vulcans prefer logic and discussion over all other types of negotiation. In contrast, Andorians are a highly emotional and conflict ridden species, even more so than Humans. A central element to their culture, which I would request that you make every effort to avoid Jim, is the _Ushaan_. It is essentially a right to fight to the death against someone who has wronged you – a situation Vulcans would find both unnecessary and crude."

Jim looked at him over the top of the report. "What, Vulcans _never_ fight to the death? For anything?"

Spock flushed inexplicably, his eyes fixed on a pawn in front of him. "There is a time in a Vulcan's life when they abandon logic for a brief period in order to procreate, termed the _Pon farr_," he said uncomfortably.

Jim grinned. Sex talk with Spock was always fun. He abandonned all pretenses and put the paper down. "Yeah, I've heard of that."

"Have you?" Spock said, looking up, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," Jim laughed. "I went for a Vulcan girl at the academy once. She explained to me in hilarious detail why she was refusing me."

Jim leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his head. "So you go all sex-crazy and fight each other?"

"Not as a matter of course, no," Spock said, looking slightly offended at Jim's description of his species mating ritual. "Combat is only necessary if one of the partners wishes to select another mate. Then the ritual of _kal-if-fee_ is performed, where the new champion challenges the original bondmate to a fight to the death for the right to mate."

"So somebody comes and steals your wife, so you fight them to the death?" Jim replied skeptically, reaching for his coffee. "Sounds a _lot_ like a fight to the death because somebody has wrong you Spock."

"It is _not_," Spock said calmly, moving the computer's piece for it. "Considering that once a Vulcan enters _Pon farr_ they must mate or die, a fight to the death is a purely logical course of action. If the Vulcan is unable to win his mate, he would die regardless of whether he is killed by the _plak tow_ or his opponent. The latter is a more merciful death."

Jim spat out his coffee all over his report. "Sorry, if you don't mate you _die_?" he said gleefully. "So you are literally _dying_ for sex?"

Spock was not amused. "That is the way my species chooses to ensure procreation, yes. I must admit I find it far more logical than the Human method of simply desiring to mate irrespective of one's situation or biological stage in life."

"So, do Vulcans not have sex for pleasure?" Jim said, as a concerning thought occurred to him.

Spock's mouth twitched as if he knew what Jim was thinking. "Being only half Vulcan, I can not tell you what is the nature of sensation derived by Vulcans when they mate. I believe that, outside of _Pon farr_, my own reproductive physiology is more Human in character."

Which was Spock's way of reassuring Jim that he liked it when they got it on. Jim relaxed, a grin spreading over his face. "So, you likely to go through this _Pon farr_ thing anytime soon?"

"It is unlikely Jim," Spock said seriously. "I am not yet old enough to experience it, even if, as my father expects it may, my Human biology were to shorten my lifespan and thus accelerate my maturation. It may be that I will never experience it."

Jim sighed, "Bummer."

Spock raised his eyebrows, but simply said, "I believe we were discussing our Andorian guests?"

At that moment, the door chimed. Jim raised his eyebrows at Spock before saying "Come in."

The Andorian Captain Valik entered, followed by two others. Jim recognized one of them as Sahran, a young Andorian that had been heading up the team repairing the engineering bay, though he did not know the other. Jim and Spock stood up to greet them.

"Captain, Commander" Valik nodded at each of them in turn, his counterparts following suit. "We looked for you in your own quarters, but were unable you locate you there. I must confess I am surprised to find you here. I hope we are not interrupting something?" he leered at them.

"You are not," Jim said calmly.

"Good," the Andorian replied. "We are here to report that Sahran and his team have completed the first stage of repairs, increasing the _Enterprise's_ warp capability to 5."

Jim sat down again, "Good work, Mr. Sahran. Please pas my gratitude on to your men."

Sahran nodded, "I am pleased that I could help repay you and your First Officer for accommodating us."

"It has been to our gain as much as to yours, Mr. Sahran," Spock said congenially. Valik sent him a deeply skeptical look, but Sahran smiled.

"At our current speed we will be able to exit the Reman-occupied space by the afternoon tomorrow," Valik reported. Jim smiled, but the Andorian continued. "However, we were hoping that a sight change of course could be made."

"Oh?" Jim said, surprised.

"Yes Captain," Valik said, excessively respectfully. "We wish to return to our vessel to recover the remains of our crew members. As per our customs, they must be returned to Andoria to be buried, but we were unable to accommodate them on the escape pods."

"Captain, I believe I have already made my opinion on this matter clear?" Spock said quickly.

Valik turned to him frowning. "Just because your race does not hold the same level of loyalty to its own –"

Jim felt a burst of anger as he interrupted the Andorian. Spock's cheeks had flushed a deeper green. "Actually, _Captain Valik_," Jim said blithely, "Commander Spock has been trying to convince me that it is necessary to return to the _Grignard_ to search for survivors, both Vulcan and Andorian. It would seem your loyalties lie in the same place, at least for now."

It was the Andorian Captain's turn to flush, his face going very vividly blue. Jim had an odd moment of feeling very pink in comparison to his cool-coloured shipmates before he broke the tense silence that had ballooned in the center of the room. "Mr. Spock, do you feel capable of piloting the _Enterprise_?"

Spock nodded, his face quickly resuming its normal colour. Jim ran his hand through his hair. Damn but it was odd having Spock act like this. The Andorians' presence and constant provocation probably were not helping.

"Captain Valik," Jim said, taking a steadying breath. The Andorian nodded again, looking slightly embarrassed. "Could I ask you to assign your men to operational stations as you see most appropriate so we can get the _Enterprise_ on its way? I am assuming the majority of the repairs are nearing completion. We will need at least a skeletal bridge crew, including a communicator proficient in Reman and Vulcan if you can find one. I would like Mr. Sahran to head up a crew in engineering."

"Captain, may I suggest something?" Spock asked. Jim nodded. "I think it would be prudent to prepare for a possible attack at the ship. It is my conclusion that the Remans intended to eradicate the crew and then take over the _Grignard_. If they had wished to simply eliminate the ship they could have done so using weapons. We would therefore be wise to anticipate meeting them there."

"That makes sense," the Andorian that Jim did not know finally spoke. "If they are recently separated from the Romulans as you say they are, they would have a need for new vessels."

Jim swallowed as he realized the implications of that. He nodded at his First Officer before addressing Valik again, "I would suggest some of your crew be assigned to the weapons array then. If you have a doctor then please have them familiarize themselves with the medical facilities."

"Unfortunately our doctor was killed by the Vulcans he was attempting to treat," Valik said, putting a little more emphasis on the words _killed by the Vulcans_ than Jim thought was really necessary. Spock's jaw clenched but he did not say anything.

Sahran alone of the Andorians seemed to have noticed this. Glancing at the Vulcan quickly, he spoke to Jim, "I know a few tactical officers with advanced first aid training that can be spared from engineering."

Jim looked at him gratefully. "Thank you Mr. Sahran. Might I suggest that you begin preparations immediately? Mr. Spock and I will meet you and your selected bridge crew on the bridge tomorrow morning before we arrive to agree on a method of approach."

All three Andorians bowed and left. As the doors slid closed, Spock turned to Jim. "Captain, I apologize if I was less than genial with our guest –"

Jim smiled easily, relaxing back in the chair, "Well, considering that if I were you I'd have tackled him to the ground about ten minutes ago, I don't think you need to Spock."

There was a silence as Spock nodded and then walked over to the desk. He leant easily over the lounging Captain to activate the computer interface on the wall in front of them. His fingers began to tap away rapidly, searching for something.

"What's up?" Jim said, interested.

"I am looking for the schematics of the navigation systems of this ship. While I am confident I will be able to pilot it, I have not yet flown a Galaxy class ship outside of simulation. It would be logical for me to refresh my knowledge of the system before I should attempt to do so."

Jim grinned coyly. "That sounds like a job that might take some time Spock."

"It is likely that the material will be lengthy, yes," Spock replied simply. Jim continued to grin up at him.

"So, you're going to need your chair then?" he asked as Spock located the file he wanted and brought it up on screen. The Vulcan turned to look down at him.

"That would likely be the most comfortable arrangement," he agreed. "You would be welcome to make us of the couch I have vacated if you wish to remain in my presence."

Jim threw his feet up on the desk, not making any attempt to get up. He noted with satisfaction that the Vulcan could not help but look over his stretched out body. "Would you like that?" Jim asked, his mouth twitching.

Spock stared down at him and said seriously, "I would."

Jim heart skipped a beat just then. "Say I don't want to give up the chair though?" Jim said, cocking his eyebrow slightly.

Spock looked puzzled. "That would be an illogical desire, seeing that you can accomplish your work –"

"But just say I told you I'd rather stay here. You'd have to _convince_ me otherwise, would you not?"

Comprehension blossomed in those brown eyes and Spock's mouth twisted into an amused half-smile. "You are attempting to initiate intimate contact."

Jim sighed, rolling his eyes. He reached out and hooked his fingers into two of Spock's belt loops. "Sometimes, Spock, I don't know why I try."

"You are proving to me that the mating habits of Humans are indeed illogical," Spock said conversationally. "This is hardly an appropriate time."

"See, that's what the Vulcan Spock says," Jim said patiently. Then, catching the Vulcan off guard, he spun the man on the spot and pulled him onto his lap. Holding him there by his belt loops again, Jim brought his lips up right beside those pointed ears and whispered, "But what about Human Spock, huh? What does he think when I do _this_?"

Jim came closer to suck on the soft skin behind Spock's ear. The dark black hair tickled his cheek as he was pleased to feel the Vulcan give the slightest shudder. "Starting to seem like a good time now?" he nipped the other man's earlobe.

The Vulcan spun in his embrace, turning until his knees rested on either side of Jim's hips. Jim leant back to give him more room to balance, the chair back tilting. He placed one hand behind his head lazily and grinning playfully at his First Officer. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"I must maintain that the timing of this interaction is illo –" Spock began, but he was unable to finish as Jim threaded his free hand through the Vulcan's hair and pulled him into a kiss. Spock gave a small shrug, the Vulcan equivalent of a resigned sigh, and kissed him back gamely. His hands traveled to Jim's hips, pushing him into the chair with delicious pressure. Finally, Jim had to break the kiss to breathe.

He rested his forehead against Spock's and panted a bit. He was pleased to see the Vulcan looked silently out of breath himself as their eyes met. Spock quirked his eyebrow and Jim felt his skin move against his own forehead, making him smile. "Have you satisfied your hormonal requirements for the afternoon?' Spock asked, totally unromantically, somewhat ruining the moment.

Jim gave him a cocky grin anyway, saying, "Spock, I'm _never_ satisfied."

"Indeed, I have observed as much," Spock said amusedly. Jim laughed and Spock's eyes glinted. "However –"

Jim sighed as Spock's weight shift above him.

"I really must review the navigation systems," Spock said, and then with the speed of a Vulcan he was on his feet again. Jim wasn't prepared for it and so the chair quickly lost balance, tipping over. Jim's head whacked unpleasantly on the floor as the chair slid underneath the desk.

"Oh _thanks_," Jim said, rubbing his head. Spock looked momentarily shocked, but then he was at Jim's side.

"Jim, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jim said, sliding off the toppled chair and shuffling on his butt to lean against the couch. "No thanks to you."

"I apologize," Spock said, sounding very sorry indeed. "I did not expect to upset the equilibrium of the chair's balance to such an extent."

"Uh huh, fine," Jim rubbed his neck as his head pounded. "Just give me a second to recover?"

"Captain," Spock said, looking very flustered for a Vulcan. "I would normally suggest that you report to the medical bay, but seeing as there are no doctors on board I must insist you allow me to examine you."

"Don't call me Captain," Jim said, watching Spock take a tricorder out of his desk. He went to roll his eyes - _of course_ the Vulcan would just have something like that on hand - but it made him dizzy and so he closed them instead. A moment later, warm fingers were pulling his hair apart at the back of his head gently. Even in while pain, that felt good. Jim smiled.

"You do not appear to have any dermal abrasions Jim," Spock informed him. "I am going to scan your head for internal injuries."

Jim nodded gingerly. Moments later there was an extremely loud burst of static just inches from his ear. "Argh!" he said, opening his eyes. "Jesus Spock, I'm _already_ in pain!"

"I apologize," Spock said with his brows furrowed. "The tricorder does not appear to be functioning. Perhaps we should call Mr. Sahran and as him to send one up one of his men who has medical training?"

"Hmm, that's going to be fun to explain," Jim said irritably. Already the pain in his head was lessening and he considered trying to convince Spock he was fine. One look at the concerned Vulcan and he knew it was no good, however. He handed over his communicator.

Spock flipped it open. Immediately there was another burst of static. Both men stared at the device, startled. "Well, _that's_ strange," Jim pointed out unnecessarily.

"Indeed," Spock was scrutinizing the communicator carefully. Then he picked up the tricorder and examined it too. "Something appears to be jamming their frequency."

The Vulcan stood, apparently deciding Jim was not likely to die from his injuries any time soon. Spock cast his eyes around the room for a likely culprit. Eventually, his eyes found his own broken communicator, still lying on the couch. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Taking a few quick steps to the couch, the Vulcan placed the tricorder on the table and seized the offending object. As soon as he brought his communicator near to Jim's the latter began to static incriminatingly. Spock sat on the couch, now fully enraptured by the mystery. Jim stared at him, still absentmindedly rubbing his neck.

Spock turned the communicators over slowly, one in each hand, scrutinizing them carefully. Eventually he obviously decided that there was nothing outwardly wrong with either of them, because he reached into a drawer in the coffee table and pulled out a small screwdriver. Deftly, he removed the face of both communicators.

"Hey, don't break that!" Jim said, getting to knees and turning to face the Vulcan. He was drowned out by Spock's own hiss of surprise and anger. Jim turned to look. His communicator looked normal, from what he could remember from mechanics class, but sitting right over the speaker of Spock's was a little red metal box with its own speaker imbedded in the center. Spock stared at it incredulously before reaching out and pinching it between his thumb and forefinger gingerly.

"You know what that is?" Jim asked, and was not surprised when Spock nodded.

"I have never seen one in person, though I have read about them. They are illegal, not to be manufactured for any reason," Spock said, only half focused on him. He face was inches from the little red box, his mouth slightly open.

"Uh…huh," Jim said cajolingly. "And that's _because_ it's a…_what_?"

"If I am correct, I believe it is a Romulan device originally devised for the purpose of communicating with and calming infants from a distance," Spock said seriously.

"It's a…baby monitor?" Jim asked incredulously.

"The concept is similar," Spock elaborated. "However Romulans, being the aggressive race they are, tend to have particularly irritable infants. Several decades ago a technology was developed with the intent to solve this problem. However, the Romulan authorities forbade the production of these devices because they function by emitting energy waves that have the effect of increasing the suggestively of any Romulan listening. While effective in convincing infants to rest, the technology also had the same effect on adults. In essence, by talking through this device you could likely convince a Romulan to do anything. Apparently it is also effective on Vulcans, which is unsurprising."

Jim gaped for a moment before exclaiming, "The Remans must have switched your communicator! That's how they managed to convince you to go try out the trellium."

"I have come to the same conclusion, Jim," Spock said gravely. Jim whistled, leaning back on his heels. For a moment both men stared starred at the device.

"You know Spock," Jim said slowly, remembering what he had thought of while talking to the Andorians. "I reckon that the Remans were trying to get this ship too. They managed to take most of the crew, but taking everyone off would have been too suspicious. If you'd killed me and then gone nuts they would have been able to just dock and stroll on board."

"I agree," Spock said quietly. "It was fortunate that it did not occur that way."

Jim reached out to lay his hand over Spock's as the Vulcan put the Romulan device down. Spock flipped his hand over and entwined their fingers. "I am _glad_ it did not occur that way," Spock corrected. Jim smiled.

They both looked back at the table as Jim's communicator gave another distressed squeal of static. Jim grabbed it and put it in his pocket. "So what should we do with that?" he asked Spock, gesturing at the red box.

"I think it would be prudent to keep it, for Mr. Scott to examine on his return. Such a piece of technology could be very helpful in case of conflict with the Romulans in the future," Spock said slowly. "Though it must obviously be kept far from me. It is very fortuitous that I have been spending most of my idle time in your quarters and not my own."

Jim couldn't help a grin at that, but it was brief. "What about the crew?" he said worriedly.

"Yes," Spock said. "It now seems very unlikely that they are safe with the Remans. After we have fulfilled our promise to the Andorians I would suggest that we pursue the Remans with the greatest haste possible."

Jim bit his lip, the faces of his friends and crewmates running through his head. He wondered, a pit in his stomach, where they were – if they were alright, or even alive.

"It seems unlikely to me that they would kill the crew," Spock said, seeing his face. "I believe they intended to make both the incidents with the _Grignard_ and the _Enterprise_ appear to be accidents, to avoid directly provoking the Federation. Once they realize we have discovered their deception, however, it is unlikely they will react peacefully."

"So the crew might actually be at the Space Station?" Jim mused.

Spock looked at him solemnly. "If that is the case, it would bode poorly for all involved. I doubt very much that they are safe if they have been successfully installed there. Have you forgotten our original assignment? We were sent to defend the station," Spock began.

"From _Romulan_ _ships_," Jim groaned, realization hitting him. He rubbed his free hand over his face.

"Indeed," Spock agreed. "I am very doubtful those ships were in fact piloted by Romulans. If our interactions with this new Reman Empire thus far are any indication, those attacks would seem characteristic of them."

"Damn."

"Indeed."

Jim sighed, looking habitually at the clock. It was late. He stood, holding Spock's hand still. "We should get to bed, tomorrow is going to be big," he said wearily, worry sapping all his energy away.

Spock stood too. "Am I right in thinking you would not object to me joining you in your quarters for the night? I do not feel comfortable remaining alone with this device present. I can review the navigation schematics from your own consol."

Jim grinned, pulling the Vulcan toward the door.


	8. Coming Together

Hey all,

I'm SO SORRY about how long this chapter took. I had no internet, As a result though, it's extra long and (IMHO) particularly delicious. On that note, please note the rating change. ;)

For those of you keeping track, yes this chapter title is extremely tongue in cheek.

Thanks to _MirrorFlower and Darkwind, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, MoonRose91, Fitful_ _Fantasy, RowanWolf, Ashley, Jord-El _(you are the only one who mentioned that, sweet of you!), _Yana5, hpets, Bleudiablo, lovefan81, DaughterofDeath, Mellyna_, and _Dilmn8 _for their reviews.

_Suzume Chiyu_: wow, thanks for all the reviews. To answer your questions, yeah I think Spock would blush green, not that he blushes very often (kirk might change that!). Vulcans DO actually have a higher body temperature (they also have their hearts in their stomach area and extra teeth, etc etc). glad you are loving the story so far (try not to explode or anything!) and thanks for the PM. :)

_mildetryth, wmonica, Hikaru_: to explain myself, I had the idea for this device, which there are some things like in cannon but not exactly, but I couldn't decide how to explain its existence. if it was a weapon then the Federation would have designed and employed it and so they'd recognize its effects right away, so it had to be Romulan made. so then I was thinking about why you'd want to control Romulans and basically it amounted to "to make them chill the hell out", and it was a short step from there to evil baby monitors. ;)

_wmonica_ and : the Doctor was my favorite for sure, though Seven was great for a laugh and I was never complaining when Tom was onscreen *minor swoon*. Good to know I've got some VOY's along for the ride.

_Stormcloud22_: I'm going to reveal my extreme nerdiness now and tell you that in one novel they give him the first name **S'chn T'gai, **but that it's never mentioned anywhere else so its not really considered cannon.

_Hikaru_ (and _Chicapanzy_ and _underneaththesheets_): OK, _fine_. I'll give you some Sporky fun fun. ;)

This chapter is for you guys!

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_**Stardate 2258.121**__. At the request of the Federation, the _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the _Enterprise_ is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. An encounter with Reman rebels leaves Jim and Spock the only ones on board, until they pick up some Andorian refugees who convince them to go investigate and aid another crippled ship in the area, the _Grignard_. _

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The next morning on the bridge was very tense. Unsurprisingly, Valik had elected to make himself communications officer so that he would be controlling the ship-wide instructions and any transmissions to the _Grignard_. This would not have been so bad in and of itself – though Jim had to admit he resented giving the man any position of power, considering that when it came down to it the occupants of the _Enterprise_ were actually the Andorian's crew. He worried that any moment they might decide they didn't really need Jim at all.

The worst effect of this positioning, however, was that it put Valik at Chekov's station directly beside Spock, who was piloting. This was uncomfortable to say the least. From the Captain's chair Jim could see Valik watching each of Spock's motions out of the corner of his eye, almost willing the Vulcan to make an error. However, Spock was flawless – likely due to the fact that he had spent the entire night pouring over flight manuals at Jim's desk. The Captain watched his First Officer's deft flying with a mingled pride, affection and victory as the Andorian beside him looked more an more put out.

The rest of the bridge crew that Valik had assembled were fairly good, if not slightly too extremely blue for Jim's comfort zone. As requested, Valik had found a member of his crew that was proficient in Reman, though it looked like they would have to rely on Spock doing double-duty if they ran into Vulcans because none of the Andorians were educated in it. Jim wasn't exactly shocked.

The tension in the room only mounted as the ship slowly neared its destination. They had agreed to bring the Enterprise just within transporter range and then beam an away team over to the crippled ship. If they encountered resistance, they would send the rest of the available crew over once they knew what they were facing. Valik had insisted he be on the away team and Jim wasn't going to get left behind, so they would be going in first with some of Valik's security team. Spock was, of course, once again forced to stay behind, and so Jim had made it clear the Vulcan was to be the Captain while he was gone.

They found the Grignard very close to where the Andorians had abandoned it, floating along very slowly and aimlessly through space. From the outside it appeared deserted, but that was not something Jim was willing to trust. Spock pulled the ship up short a good distance from the Grignard and Valik and Jim rose as one to head to the transporter room, Jim clipping a phaser to his belt as he went.

"Spock, you have control of the ship," he said.

"Very well Captain," the First Officer said, standing too. He was giving Jim a very unreadable look – something he had not done in a while. Only the slight drawing together of his eyebrows betrayed his true emotion – concern. It was a small cue, but Jim picked it up regardless.

"Don't get used to it though," he said, his words joking but his eyes serious. "I'll be returning to take it back before long."

The troubled little furrow smoothed a bit as Spock nodded, "Naturally."

Jim flashed him a reassuring smile before turning to Valik, who was watching them both as if he couldn't understand how they got along. "Shall we?" he asked, indicating the door and then following the Andorian as he made his way to the transporters. The remaining members of the landing party were with them. An aged-looking Andorian was sitting in Scotty's chair and surveying Jim balefully as he stepped onto the pad. Jim thought of the banter he and the Scotsman would be exchanging with a pang as the elderly alien wheezed.

"Ready when you are Captain."

"Energize," Jim said firmly. For the briefest of moments he was overtaken by the sensation of being lighter than air, of darkness and weightless non-being, and then his feet hit the hard floor of a corner of the Grignard's cargo bay. Around him the Andorians were drawing their weapons, and he did the same. Then, looking around at his companions swiftly, he took a step out from behind the nearest pile of chairs, heading for the doors.

He gasped in shock as he turned the corner, reeling and clutching the stacked seating for support. The scene before him was horrific. At least a dozen bodies littered the room, some with fatal head wounds, others stabbed with the objects strewn across the entire bay. In places the floor was slick with trellium-D, a huge container of the cursed substance punctured the same way the one on the _Enterprise_ had been and still slowly leaking in the corner. In other places the floor was sticky with dried blood.

As he stood there, taking the scene in, his Andorian counterparts strode past him. They looked grim, but unsurprised at what they found. Picking their way carefully across the treacherous floor, they headed for the door. Still shaken, Jim reluctantly released the chairs and followed. He immediately wished he had not.

Similar scenes of devastation met them as they prowled the ship. All around Jim was murder and death. The worst of it were the nature of the killings – crimes of passion, of heat-of-the-moment battles. Everywhere was the evidence of a crew gone insane with violence – bodies lay discarded in piles, or left impaled by the objects that felled them. Doors were ripped of hinges, consoles disgorged their wirey innards forlornly and the lights flickered frequently – as if they too were about to die. Every so often they would come across the tell-tale blue skin of a former Andorian crew member buried in the wreckage and destruction.

"Captain, please report," came Spock's voice from the communicator on his belt. The noise shattered the eerie silence of the forsaken ship like a thunderclap, making the Andorians around him start.

"It's…not good," Jim said, his voice strained. "No…no sign of survivors. I'll keep you posted Mr. Spock."

"Thank you, Captain," Spock's voice was tense.

They slowly made their way to the bridge of the Grignard deck by deck, pausing every few meters to shift rubble and collapsed masonry looking for signs of life. It was not until they reached the top deck of the ship that they found anything but destruction and death, by which time Jim was feeling very nauseous. Every new dead Vulcan seemed to look more like Spock than the previous one, and each discovery was accompanied by a horrible swooping of his stomach.

It was mainly because of this that he lingered outside the upper deck recreation room as they passed it. His Andorian colleagues had tugged the door but it would not budge. The door was buckled outwards from the inside with a visible handprint in the center – it had been _punched_ in, Jim realized with alarm - and so it was hard to tell if it was locked or simply broken. Valik had apparently decided the latter, because he turned to press on. Equally unimpressed, the rest of the Andorians turned to go as well.

"Wait a second," Jim had found himself saying, though there was no apparently reason to. If he had been thinking logically he would have known it was simply the desire to find something alive, something good and safe aboard that ship, that held him there. Intuition told him he must get into that room, if only to be doubly sure there was nothing there. Valik looked back at him, exasperated.

"It is broken, Captain Kirk," the Andorian said impatiently. "It will need to be melted open."

"There might be somebody in there," Jim pointed out. "In fact, given that it was broken from the inside there _probably_ is."

"No Andorian could have caused that damage," Valik said indifferently. "I have no desire to encounter any of these Vulcans who have destroyed my ship and murdered my crew. We must press onwards."

So there it was, finally said. Anger flared in Jim. "Well, you may not want to find any Vulcans still alive but _I_ do Captain Valik," he refrained from snarling the words with difficulty. "I'm going to get this door open."

Valik gave him a look of deepest sarcasm. The Andorian then flicked his hand at one of the crew members behind him, who too off at a trot around the corner where they had just come around. He returned almost immediately carrying a small welding torch, presumably from a storage closet nearby, which his handed to Valik.

"Than, Captain Kirk, we part ways for now," the other Captain tossed Jim the torch. "I will continue to search the ship with my men."

Jim caught the torch with ease as the Andorians turned their backs to him and started down the hallway. "Yeah, you do that," he grumbled as he set about lighting the torch.

It was grueling work, cutting through the door. The heat from the flame burned his face and hands as he slowly melted the area around the hinges away. Spock would surely be upset about this later on, considering the complex he had recently developed about preventing Jim from getting himself injured. Still, instinct spurred him onwards.

After the better part of an hour Jim had managed to melt away the hinges and the lock of the door, cutting small, neat holes around them and forcing them out like puzzle pieces. Laying down him torch and flexing his burned hands gingerly, Jim stepped well to the side of the door and aimed a kick at its base.

Just as he had hoped it would, the unsecured door pivoted around waist height and overbalanced, falling with a crash outward, into the hallway. The sound exploded through the silent halls, stirring up enough dust from the rumble around him that his vision through the door was momentarily obscured. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stepped in anyway, and froze.

Standing not ten feet from him was a very tall, dark-skinned Vulcan. His black eyes were narrowed and his hands outstretched in a fighting stance. His face was shockingly expressive, fear and anger warring for dominance over his features. Jim's hands went into the air on either side of his head instinctively, his phaser still clipped to his belt out o reach.

After a quick moment, surprise registered on the Vulcan's face. "You are not a Vulcan," he said obviously, in a very deep voice. He said it like a question. As the words left his mouth, people started to emerge from behind the overturned desks and tables around the room. They were mostly frightened-looking Andorian, though there were two more Vulcans, their faces unreadable. Jim gawped a bit at them all before replying.

"I'm Captain James Kirk, of the Federation Starship _Enterprise_," he explained. Then, because he thought clarity would be the best route just then, he added, "I come in peace."

The Vulcan in front visibly relaxed, along with the Andorian crew. One of the impassive Vulcans spoke first, saying, "You are known to us, Captain Kirk. The Vulcan people owe you a great debt."

Jim opened his mouth to protest this feelingly foolishly hot in the face, but the first Vulcan beat him to it. "I am Tavol, formerly of the Arachnid Nebula, more recently of Raal. Please tell us how you came to be aboard this ship."

Jim explained quickly about their own encounter with the Remans, how they had rescued the stranded Andorian crew and their decision to return to the _Grignard_. At the mention of the rest of the crew, the Andorians present – Jim counted quickly and saw that there were eight of them in total – became quite anxious to find Valik.

"Just hold on a moment," Jim said, blocking the exit. The Andorians visibly tensed. "I want to know how you ended up here. I'll call Captain Valik back here."

He flipped open his communicator and spoke into it, his eyes still on the frowning Andorians. "Captain Valik, please come in."

There was a crackle of static and then Valik replied with a vaguely hostile, agitated, "_Yes_, Captain Kirk?"

"Your presence is requested in the upper deck recreation room."

"_Why_?" Valik drew out the word gratingly.

"I have managed to open the door," Jim said blithely, "And I have discovered your surviving crew members."

There was an extended period of silence on the other end and Jim could not help but grin. Tavol was studying him carefully as he did so, so Jim tried to arrange his features so he simply looked pleased, instead of vindictively derisive.

"We are on our way," Valik said eventually, his voice unreadable.

"Great," Jim said cheerfully. He then pressed a button on his communicator and asked, "Spock?"

"I am here Captain," the reply came immediately.

"Great, I've found a small number of survivors, we'll be bringing them over shortly," Jim said.

"That is very good news Captain," Spock said. "I will prepare the crew to receive them."

"Excellent," Jim said, just as Valik walked through the door followed by his entourage. There were cries of greeting amongst the Andorian crew, and a few of the survivors hurried forward to embrace the landing party. Jim noticed that the three Vulcans remained where they stood, watching stone-faced at the happy reunion. He waited for the commotion to die down a bit. Then, leaving the channel to Spock open so that he could hear the conversation, he asked, "Mr. Tavol, would you mind explaining to me what happened with the trellium-D now?"

Tavol nodded and began his tale. "The disturbances started a wee or so ago, we estimate. The plague spread quickly through the ship, and I watched as my fellow Vulcan passengers became more and more agitated. The violence, we believe started in earnest with a customary killing during the_ kal-if-fee_. Under the influence of the trellium-D, the family members of the slain party responded with passion and violence instead of reasoned acceptance. The ensuing battle caused many more casualties which resulted in yet more violence. Freed of their logic, the emotions of my fellows ran unchecked, causing them to commit atrocities rarely seen in our culture."

"Yet you remained unaffected?" Jim said, surprised.

"I was raised as a _V'tosh ka'tur_," Tavol explained. "In Terran, that translates most closely to a 'Vulcan without logic', though it is a somewhat inaccurate representation. My people simply acknowledge the usefulness of emotion and harness it as a complement to our use of logic in guiding our decisions. I was affected similarly to my counterparts, but due to my experience with controlling my emotions I was able to abstain from violence and unreasoned reactions."

Jim noticed that the Vulcans behind Tavol had been eyeing him as if he was somehow contagious or dangerous as he explained about his lifestyle. "What about them?" he asked. "They aren't Vertosh Catour, are they?"

Tavol kindly ignored his butchering of the pronunciation. "They are not," he agreed. "I was able to remove them from the situation before they were affected. When the chaos erupted they had been patents in the medical bay, where I work, and therefore I was able to escort them across the hall to this secure area without them becoming exposed."

"Right," Jim said. "Then you were joined by the Andorian crew?"

"In a manner, yes," Tavol agreed. Jim was surprised when one of the rescued Andorians interjected.

"Tavol is too modest. He risked his own life to search for crew members that had not been able to evacuate to the escape pods, and for any savable Vulcans, to take here. If not for him we all would have perished," the man explained.

There was a murmur of agreement from around the room. Valik looked a mixture of surprised and disbelieving, which only made Jim's mood increase. Jim looked at the Vulcan again, impressed. "You couldn't find any more Vulcans?" he asked, disappointed.

"I did," Tavol corrected. Jim raised his eyebrows, scanning the room, but he could only see the two already-mentioned medical bay patients. Tavol smiled very slightly at his confusion and said to the room at large, "I think it is safe to come out."

There was a shuffling of tables and chairs and all around the room tiny heads emerged, peeking over surfaces and around corners. Their large, wide eyes and small pointed ears were fixed intently on Jim, taking in his every move. They were children, at least thirty Vulcan children of all ages, staring warily at him and glancing periodically at the two adult Vulcans for reassurance. Jim's face split into a genuinely elated smile.

"Children," Tavol explained, "are similar to the _V'tosh ka'tur_ in that they have not yet internalized Surak's teachings and therefore must actively control their emotions. They were therefore similarly immune to the effects of the trellium-D. I escorted them to the medical bay, decontaminated them, and sent them here as well."

Jim whistled, the sound reverberating off the metal walls impressively. "Very well done," he said seriously.

Tavol merely nodded his acknowledgement. Jim looked around the room at the children still emerging from behind the overturned furniture, which Jim noticed for the first time was all turned facing the door like fortification walls. None of them looked older than an eight-year-old human, though Jim recalled that Spock had said they aged differently, so perhaps they were older. "Mr. Spock," Jim spoke into his communicator.

"Captain?" Spock replied.

"Could you get the transporter room to beam us directly aboard from here?" he asked.

"Certainly Captain, how many to beam aboard?"

Jim double checked his counting, "Eight Andorians, thirty five Vulcans and the away team."

"Now just wait a second," Valik interjected. Jim turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. The Andorian continued, "We would prefer not to return to the _Enterprise_."

Jim opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed an overly-polite, "Oh?"

"Now that the conflict on our own ship has been resolved, we are needed to perform repairs here," Valik said calmly.

"All five of you?" Jim asked sarcastically.

"Of course not," Valik said, his tone now almost malicious. "I will be ordering my crew to return to via the escape pods at once. Of course, we are in no state to carry passengers at the moment, so I would suggest that our Vulcan guests would be more comfortable aboard the _Enterprise_."

"Since _we_ are so ready to have passengers?" Jim snarled, dropping all pretenses. That tricky, xenophobic bastard just wanted his ship back without any pesky Vulcans aboard. "It shouldn't be too much trouble for Spock and I to pilot, maintain and repair our ship while playing host to almost forty guests? And what about _my_ damn crew, how can we rescue them without any support?!"

"Might I remind you that my crew already completed most of the repairs to your vessel? We have served our repayment to you," Valik said, unconcernedly. "The fate of your crew is indeed regrettable, but not something we can assist you with. Before we returned to this room I requested to return, and they are now on their way. We are willing to give you one of our escape pods, Captain Kirk, so that you will have a second vehicle should you need to leave your ship, providing you are willing to pilot it back to the _Enterprise_. Now, I really must ask you and your guests to depart from my ship as soon as possible so that we can begin to rebuild."

Jim spluttered for a moment before realizing that there wasn't really much he could do. If the Andorians were already leaving the Enterprise he could not keep them there, much less force them to work. His face glowed with anger as he growled into his communicator, "Thirty five Vulcans to beam aboard, Spock."

"Captain Valik," the Andorian who had spoken before said quickly as Spock confirmed the command to Jim. "I would prefer to go to with the Vulcans."

Valik looked shocked and angry as he rounded on the crewmember. "_What_?"

"I owe Tavol my life," the Andorian explained simply. "I feel it is my duty to see that he arrives at the Vulcan colony in safety."

Valik looked incensed. He rounded on the remaining crewmembers. "Anybody _else_?"

"I would also like to go," another Andorian said firmly. Two others murmured their agreement, though the others stayed silent. Valik was bug-eyed with rage. He turned on Jim.

"Fine, you take them. I don't want disloyal crewmembers aboard my vessel," he snarled.

Not willing to physically fight the Andorian which his burned hands, which he thought might happen if Valik was provoked at all, Jim resisted the urge to point out that just because the Andorians were not loyal to Valik didn't make them disloyal. Instead, he corrected his command to Spock again, "Thirty five Vulcans, four Andorians to beam aboard."

"You are certain, Captain?" Spock said, and only Jim noticed the amusement in his voice.

Jim looked at Valik, who glared back but said nothing. "I am," Jim said.

"Very well," Spock said happily. Moments later the majority of the occupants of the room shimmered and departed. Valik turned to Jim with undisguised hostility.

"Get off my ship."

Jim didn't need telling twice. He turned and swiftly left the room. He walked alone through the halls, his blood still boiling. While in the room he had forgotten the horrors that lay without, but now he was confronted with them again. His mood shifted slowly from angry to somber as, not wanting to get lost, he was forced to retrace their entire journey through the war zone that was the _Grignard_. The escape pods, he recalled, were right beside the cargo bay they had beamed into. There he found the Andorians, departing in the opposite direction for the bridge. Many of them gave him friendly farewell salutes before they turned their back and walked away. Jim had to step over the body of a Vulcan woman to get to the pod they had left open for him. He fought back a wave of mingled disgust and intense remorse as he turned on the small craft and piloted it out of the _Grignard_'s hanger.

It was with relief that he stepped out of the pod and into the Enterprise a few minutes later, even if his return to command was hampered by the necessity of being decontaminated in the cargo bay. That finally completed, he headed for the bridge.

He had to fight hard to resist the urge he had to run up and grab onto Spock the moment the bridge doors slid open. Instead, he gave him a long, blazing look that Spock returned with the same intensity, if only for a brief moment. Tearing his eyes away, Jim surveyed the assembled people.

He was pleasantly surprised to see Sahran, accompanied by a few members of Valik's crew that had been aboard for the past few days, mingling with the four Andorians that had just beamed aboard. Tavol was there as well, evidently having just paused in a conversation with Spock. When he saw Jim, he spoke, "My colleagues will be present as soon as they have seen to the accommodation of the children."

"Shouldn't they stay there?" Jim asked. "Thirty something children need supervision, don't they?"

Tavol looked amused. "Vulcan children are considerably less unruly, in general, than Human children."

"Even ones that have been exposed to trellium-D?" Jim directed his question at Spock. "I thought you said the effects could be long-lasting?"

Spock looked at Tavol. "I believe the Captain has a valid point. Perhaps it would be most logical to assign crew members to safeguard the children."

Tavol looked at Jim, and then at Spock. He looked like he thought they both didn't know what they were talking about. Jim had the sudden odd realization that while he looked at Spock and saw a half-Vulcan, Vulcans looked at him and saw a half-Human. It was a subtle but significant difference. Then their Vulcan guest shrugged and nodded. "If that is what you wish," he said, and left to go discuss the matter with the Vulcans on the decks below.

Jim nodded to the Andorians, who had fallen silent, and then walked over and threw himself into the Captain's chair wearily. The Andorians began to tae up positions at the consoles on the bridge. Jim had no idea what to do now. "Any suggestions, Mr. Spock?" he asked.

"I would suggest that we contact Starfleet, Captain," Spock said immediately from the pilot's seat. "While we have a skeletal crew – Mr. Sahran and his colleagues are more than capable of maintaining the ships systems, Mr. Tavol has informed me he was a medical officer aboard his vessel, and I can pilot the Enterprise – we do not have the capability to pursue or overcome the Remans as we will need to in order to rescue the crew. We must request assistance."

Jim sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He knew Spock was right, loath as he was to have to call Starfleet and explain this mess. Resignedly, he directed the Andorian that had taken the communications post to contact Admiral Pike. If he was going to have to explain this to anybody, it had better e somebody he liked.

Pike's eyebrows went up as soon as he saw Jim's new bridge crew. Greeting Jim with amusement, the Admiral blithely observed that Jim had a knack for the unexpected. Jim replied by explaining all that had gone on since they had last communicated, including the fact that they now expected the whole crew to have been kidnapped and that they were now playing host to a crew that was nearly seventy-five percent children. By the time he had finished, Pike didn't look amused anymore.

"Stay where you are Jim," Pike said seriously, his tone making it clear there was no room for discussion. "Stay near that Andorian vessel if you can – they might help you in a firefight. I'm dispatching two ships with extra crew to come back you up, but those Remans might find you first. Keep an eye out."

Jim nodded, wishing he could come up with something clever to say here, but the shock o the day was settling on him in full force and all he wanted to do was get back to his quarters and away from the bridge. He felt like screaming and crying at the same time, like punching somebody but also like he really needed a hug. So he let the Admiral give his orders without argument. Once the man had signed off, Jim turned to Spock.

"Mr. Spock, if you could come with me?" he said, rising from his chair. Spock looked ready to protest, but Jim sent him a significant look. "Mr. Sahran, can you handle the bridge for a while?"

The young Andorian nodded, his antennae perking up. He looked honored. Jim's liking for the young alien increased even more as he headed for the door, Spock following him.

They walked in silence all the way to Jim's quarters, where Jim flopped down on the couch immediately. His legs splayed out in front of him and he tossed his arm over his eyes as if trying to block out the world. Spock sat down across from him, concerned. "What is the matter Jim?" he asked softly. "What is it that has disturbed you so?"

"That ship…the Vulcans…" Jim shook his head, unable to explain. Spock seemed to understand, because the next moment he had slid off his couch and sat down on Jim's, holding out his hand at head height with a questioning look on his face. It took a moment for Jim to understand what he wanted. When he realized, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You want to do that mind-connection thing?"

Spock looked troubled. "Only if you are in agreement. I merely intended to avoid the necessity of your recounting the events on board the Grignard, but if you feel that it would be too familiar then I - "

Jim smiled fondly at the other man and reached out, grabbing his wrist and placing the other's hand to his face. Spock stopped talking, half-smiled back, and then readjusted his fingers. Jim felt a nudge to his mind, not unlike the feeling of missing a step on a staircase, and then a full blown push. He closed his eyes as the sensation of Spock's mind flowing into his own overwhelmed him.

It was completely unlike the last time. Prepared for it this time, he felt none of the panic or confusion he had experienced with the elder Spock. The younger Spock also took his time, easing into Jim's mind in a way that Jim could feel was deliberate and considerate. It was like the difference between inviting a guest over and having the cops kick down your door.

Finally the meld was complete - Jim could feel Spock's thoughts swirling on the edges of his consciousness. He wondered if the Vulcan could feel his.

_I can_, came his answer. Jim had forgotten how bizarre the feeling was, to have somebody else speak in your mind. It felt as if he himself had thought the sentence, but that it was simultaneously novel to him. For a moment there was silence, and then Spock's thoughts drifted to him again. _Show me what you saw on the ship._

So Jim showed him. He walked through the decks in his mind, trying to numb himself against it. This was made difficult by the fact that he could feel Spock's own reactions, which were similar to his own. Their distress mingled together and, to Jim's surprise, became more bearable in the sharing. Jim realized that on top of the horror of the scenes he had saw, the worst of it had been imagining Spock in the same position. Re-experiencing it with the man's fingers pressed hotly to his head and with his pure spirit aliveness colour Jim's every thought, therefore, was immensely comforting.

He tried to tell Spock this, but realized he had no idea how to think at the man. A moment later he was ruminating on the unfairness that Spock apparently could stick thoughts into his head but he could not reciprocate.

_You are not experienced in mind melds. No,_ Spock thought easily, anticipating his question, _It is not because you are human. Given the opportunity, you will learn. _

Jim doubted it, though his mood was greatly improved by the idea that Spock thought he might et practice at this. It was like promise. Inwardly, he winked. Immediately he felt a wave of amusement hit him, strong enough it took his breath away. He hadn't really thought the Vulcan was capable of that much emotion. His surprise must have shown, because Spock answered, _Vulcan emotions are more powerful than those of Humans, Jim._

_I love it when you think my name,_ Jim snickered inwardly, and was surprised as he heard the words bang around in his head the way Spock's thoughts did. Spock sent him another wave of pleasure, and Jim tried to think another thought. He couldn't. His actual face frowned, he was so disappointed.

In the meld, Spock could not hide his enjoyment. _At least your innuendos are well formed. I am hardy surprised._

Jim thought the Vulcan actually sounded kind of cocky, far more teasing that he ever was outside his head. As payback, Jim replied by deliberately sending Spock a wave of pure lust, accompanied helpfully by a montage of all the things Jim would like to do to him in bed, ever.

Spock broke the meld suddenly, but not before Jim felt a returning rush of arousal so strong that he got hard almost immediately. He gawped, disoriented for a moment at the man across the couch from him. Then he lunged, pushing the stronger man back flat on the couch and crushing their lips together.

Spock was still for only the briefest moment, stunned, before he shifted under Jim so that the Human's hips rested between his bent legs. Jim was holding himself up on his right elbow, his left hand already pushed up under the Vulcan's shirt greedily. One of Spock's hot hands came up to tangle in Jim's hair while the other slide up his cool back, soothing the aching muscles as it stroked the smooth skin lazily. Jim willingly lost himself in the kiss, his tongue tip lightly stroking Spock's own before they slid past, playfully ducking in an around each other's teeth intimately. The Captain felt his stress, his anguish and his worry start to drain away in the embrace. God, this felt good.

His hand, kneading the flaming tinted skin of Spock's chest, had gotten caught up in the other man's shirt. Jim snarled - frustrated - and pulled back. Unceremoniously he grabbed the hem of Spock's shirt and tugged it off. The Vulcan reciprocated immediately, and then Jim lowered himself so that their torsos were pressed together. Spock shuddered as the expanses of bare skin touched, and Jim lowered his head to kiss just behind the other man's ear. He sucked. He bit. He trailed kisses down a squirming Spock's neck. Vividly, he recalled the dream he had had a few days previously and wickedly, he brought his mouth to Spock's nipple.

It went hard in his mouth immediately, and Jim grinned against the Vulcan's chest. Spock's hand in his hair curled almost painfully, though Jim knew he was holding back still. Given what he'd seen today, if Spock had wanted to he could do a lot more damage that pulling Jim's hair. A surge of affection swelled up in him and he kissed lower, his hands fumbling for Spock's belt. He kissed down the trail of hair that disappeared into Spock's pants, feeling the Vulcan's heart hammering away at a dizzying pace. He reached the end just as he got the belt off and the top button undone. He looked up to grin at Spock, to find the other man was not looking at him. He had his eyes closed, face to the ceiling, with a rapturous look on his face. Jim grinned and tugged on the Vulcan's pants and underwear. Spock looked down at him then and shifted is weight up so Jim could get the clothing out from under him. Jim pulled them up as far as he could without falling off the couch, then he grinned and cheekily threaded his body through the gap so that he was between Spock's legs and the pants sat behind him against his back.

He could feel the Vulcan using his feet to completely remove the unwanted articles as he lowered his head again. He licked his lips and then slowly, deliberately closed his mouth around Spock's head. The other man moaned, and Jim grinned wider as he slid his mouth down, taking the man whole in his mouth. He pulled back slowly, ad then descended again, quickening his pace with each pass. He was getting almost embarrassingly good at this, he thought as he rolled his tongue in waves.

The hand on his head shifted so that fingertips met him temple again, and without warning Spock forged a connection there. It was only half a meld, like the one he had down in the elevator a week ago, but through it came a torrent of lust unlike Jim thought he had ever felt before. _Like that, Spock?_ Jim thought, though he wasn't sure the Vulcan could or would hear him.

Apparently he could though, because the lust actually increased. Jim hummed in amusement. Spock's free hand flew down, clutching at the edge of the couch cushion with white knuckles, as the sensation sent him over the edge. Hot liquid shot unexpectedly down Jim's throat, tangy and salty together and Jim pressed Spock's hips into the couch with one hand to steady him as he rode out the wave of pleasure.

When it was over, Jim looked up and grinned at the Vulcan, who cracked an eye open and arched an eyebrow lazily. A bead of sweat was sliding down the middle of the slightly-greenish torso and Jim shifted up to catch it with his mouth before taking Spock's mouth in a kiss. A stray thought drifted across their semi-jointed minds. Jim choked and broke the kiss.

"Seriously, I _taste_ different than you?" he asked Spock incredulously.

"A logical condition," the Vulcan agreed, "Given our disparate physiologies."

"Could you keep your thoughts to yourself? You're killing the mood," Jim teased. Stupid logical Vulcan.

Spock cocked an eyebrow at him and – Jim felt a momentary twinge of regret – broke the bond at Jim's temple by taking his hands and securely grabbing Jim's waist. Then, with a grace Jim would never possess, the Vulcan managed to sit up and sweep Jim into his arms in one fluid movement. In only a fraction of a second he had stood, taken the few steps around the divider of the room, and tossed Jim onto his bed. He bent down and, kissing Jim hungrily on the lips as he did so, unbuttoned the latter's pants and pulled them off. Then, both of them finally entirely naked, Spock climbed onto the bed and began to kiss across Jim's stomach. The Captain stretched his arms, folding them behind his head lazily and twisting in pleasure as Spock's hot hands ran up and down the insides of his legs. One of those hands slid up between his legs and began to tease him with a slow, gentle rhythm. Spock's mouth trailed purposefully up the inside of one of his thighs.

"What are you doing?" Jim hummed, his eyes half closed, as if he didn't know.

Spock looked up at him, his mouth so close that his soft puffs of breath as he spoke sent waves of pleasure through Jim's body. "Since you do not seem to believe me," he said, and the sight of the wicked grin on his face nearly did Jim in right there, "It is only logical that I prove my observation to you."

So Spock lowered his head, still smirking, and prove it he did.


	9. Lost and Found

OH MY GOD this chapter is so long and hated me so much. Remember how I said that I write the movie that is in my head? It was like somebody keyed up this little section of the DVD. Ugh.

A little note on stuff in this story: In generally if it makes sense to do so I try to used "real" (aka canon) people/things. There is so much canon stuff on Starfleet, for example, that I try to used people that actually existed (well, "existed") when Kirk was Captain. In general if a phaser does something, it can do that in the canon. If I say the crew quarters are on deck X, they actually are in that class of ship as far as I can tell OR its never told where it is so I have to make it up. On the flip side, most random alien characters are my doing, because there were so few recurring aliens in TOS and of those, none of them were on starships, etc etc.

Anyway, here it is (all sixteen and a half pages). Thanks for your patience.

Thank you to _MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Yana5, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Pheonixfire979, Jord-El, foxy-comic-death, Chimcha, Suzume Chiyu, Fitful Fantasy, my renji-kuhn, signofthetimes, wmonica_ (hahaha!), _Teldra_ (I pictured that too! Heehee), _WOAH_ (rofl at your name), _Liongirl11, xKayla xKatastrophe, naruke3176, Secret Thought_ and _SnowKissYuki_ for their reviews!

_Hikaru_ and _underneaththesheets_: You're welcome. Hopefully the inspiration will catch me again soon so I can keep y'all happy. (hope the rest of the wee was better uts!) :P

_lovefan81_: It's a reference to Organic Chemistry (I just finished a course in it) because I'm _that cool_. There's another ship named after an orgo reaction in this chapter too… -_-*

_RowanWolf_ and _LuckyStar27_: What a great compliment from both of you, thank you (and yes RW, it did used to be T, ask Hikaru why it just _had_ to change).

Also, as a general reply: Yes, Valik sucks (I hate him too, but he is fun to write), and Vulcan children are adorable…just you wait! Thanks again, I love you guys!

"Whatever Cat, give us the chapter" you say? _Okay_. Here it is. ;)

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_**Stardate 2258.121**__. At the request of the Federation, the _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the _Enterprise_ is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. An encounter with Reman rebels leaves Jim and Spock the only ones on board, until they pick up some Andorian refugees who convince them to go investigate and aid another crippled ship in the area, the _Grignard_. There they pick up some new Vulcan passengers, and are left drifting in space awaiting are rendezvous with Starfleet._

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Jim was not sure what had awoken him so early – or was it still late – in the completely silent room. There wasn't a sound except the soft puffs of Spock breathing, so quietly that were his ears not inches from the Vulcan's mouth he would not have heard it at all. He was lying with his face tucked into the crook of Spock's neck, his own breath ghosting across the green exposed skin. His hand was splayed across the other's stomach, where he could feel the humming vibration of that rapidly beating heart.

For a few moments he closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep, but he soon realized it was not going to happen. Sighing silently, he moved deliberately slowly and quietly off the Vulcan so as not to wake him. Once he had slid slowly to his feet, which took him several minutes at that pace, he glanced at the clock.

_2:34 AM_

Jim groaned, wondering what time he and Spock must have passed out at for him to wake up so early. He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to wake himself up fully. It was significantly hotter on the side that had been against the Vulcan's warm chest. Jim grinned as he pulled on some fresh pants and a clean shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair quickly in an attempt to look less ravished than he was sure he did. Then, sending a final fond glance at the sleeping Vulcan, he departed.

He had a vague thought that he ought to get to the bridge, but he had not taken more than four steps in that direction before his stomach gave an almighty grumble and Jim realized with a jolt that he had not eaten since the past morning. He adjusted his course to first take him past the mess hall.

His first indication that his breakfast might not go as he had expected was the sight of Tavol, the _V'tosh ka'tur_, lying on a camp bed in the hallway by the dining room. He appeared to be sleeping. The doors to the mess hall were open. Silently, Jim crept up to them and peered inside.

A very peculiar sight met his eyes. The many tables on the room had been pushed to one side and the rest of the hall filled with similar cots to the one outside. On some of them lay the tiny forms of slumbering Vulcan children, but these were in the minority. Most of the brood was awake, sitting at in groups at tables or cross legged on the floor. Jim supposed that, like Spock, he simply did not need as much sleep. The eldest, who looked to Jim to be about eight, were the most solitary and some appeared to even be engaged in a form of meditation. It was the younger ones however, that drew Jim's eyes.

At the table closest to him sat a small group of children who Jim would have pegged at anywhere from two to four years old. They were all looking intently at what appeared to be a large ball of sticks. Had they been Human children, Jim was sure the thing would have been in their mouths and been a choking hazard. Instead, they were speaking in soft whispers in Vulcan, evidently calmly debating something. Finally the eldest looking of the group reached out and shifted one of the rods slightly. They all looked at it for a moment, and then the debate apparently began again.

"It is the _kal-toh_," a soft voice explained from beside him. Tavol had woken up and was now standing beside him, following his gaze. "It is a common Vulcan game where the objective is to complete an icosadodecahedra. It is used to develop mathematical and spatial reasoning in the young."

Jim didn't even know what an icosathingy was; let alone how to design one. "Couldn't they just play, I don't know, hopscotch?" Jim asked. Now that he thought about it, there were absolutely no noisy games going on in the room – the thirty-odd children in there were so silent that if Jim were not looking at them he would have not suspected their presence at all.

"I am afraid they would be likely to find such a pursuit illogical, and would therefore derive little fulfillment from the experience," the Vulcan actually looked somewhat regretful.

"It teaches….numbers, and stuff," Jim said slightly defensively, but his sentence trailed off. He had caught sight of a young boy, around three, who was sitting alone. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the room of impassive miniature Vulcans because his shoulders were hunched in unmistakable despair and his little face was flushed green. The children around him were sending him both wary and disapproving looks. His concern must have shown on his face because Tavol followed his gaze once more.

"Pa'tar," Tavol said, and there was definitely sadness in his voice now.

"What's wrong with him?" Jim asked, hushed.

"He was the last child I managed to recover from the ship before I was forced to seal the room off for safety's sake. I found him several days after the others, hiding with his dead mother in their family quarters. He was therefore exposed the longest and I am afraid to say that he has been severely affected," Tavol said. "Likely permanently."

"Affected?" Jim asked, but any explanation was made unnecessary as the little boy looked up and, seeing the looks he was receiving from the others, promptly bust into tears. The surrounding young Vulcans looked downright scandalized. One meditating, haughty-looking older girl cracked open an eye from a cot nearby and hissed a silencing admonition at the child, who then gave himself over to silent sobs.

Tavol simply waved his hand at the situation helplessly. Jim's heart wrenched and he made a snap decision. Silently, he walked through the doors of the hall, heading for the replicator. Immediately all motion stopped as the young Vulcans turned to look at him. Then, as one, they all stood to recognize him. He felt somewhat awkward as he turned to face the room again, a warm bowl of oatmeal in hand, to find thirty preschool-age children standing at attention facing him. It was a bit alarming.

Shaking off his heebie-jeebies, Jim took a few quick steps over to Pa'tar, who had stood like the others. His little face had tear tracks on it as he looked up at Jim, fear traced subtly into the set of his mouth and eyes.

"Master Pa'tar," Jim nodded down at the young boy. He spoke softly out of respect to the children still slumbering on the cots around them, trying to be as charming as possible. "I require an assistant to help me organize the bridge. Would I be correct in assuming you would be willing to help me?"

The child's eyes widened slightly and he stared for a few moments. Finally, in a very small voice, he whispered, "One of my older peers would be a more logical choice, Captain."

It took Jim a moment to get over the strangeness of being spoken to that way by a three-year-old. Then he gestured around vaguely and replied, "Your colleagues appear to be occupied with other pursuits, and I do not wish to disrupt them. I presume I am not interrupting _you_?"

Pa'tar shook his head, "No, Captain."

"Wonderful, would you consent to help me with my duties then?" Jim asked, as officially as he could so the clever child would not think he was being belittled. The boy simply nodded and Jim extended an arm to pick him up. "Than you very much," he said."

Pa'tar permitted himself to be lifted up and carried from the room. Tavol was looking at him with that strange appraising look he had given him earlier the other day. Uncomfortable feeling scrutinized, Jim quickly bid the man farewell and he and his new assistant headed for the bridge.

Fifteen minutes later found Jim in the Captain's chair, having relieved a tired but pleased looking Sahran. The Captain was picking bits of ground beef out of his oatmeal with difficulty as the baby Vulcan sat on the wide arm of his chair holding a datapad. The child, as Jim had expected, had already proven to be exceptionally clever and Jim had given him the task of sorting out the varieties and quantities of supplies they would need to care for their guests for the next few days and then locating which of the ships cargo bays each item was stored in.

The Andorians that remained on the bridge were watching these proceedings with a mixture of amusement and perplexity. Jim supposed they made an odd pair; the lounging Starfleet Captain in his bright yellow uniform juxtaposed with the small, upright figure of the preoccupied Vulcan in his little black buttoned robe. Not that he much cared, since he had accomplished his goal – all trace of misery had gone from that little face and Pa'tar looked controlled and calm, as Jim knew Vulcans preferred to be.

It was this in position that Spock found them when he entered the bridge at a quarter to five that morning, looking as perfectly put together as usual. Nobody would ever look at him and suspect he had not woken up in his own bed this morning. If he was surprised to find a small child sharing the Captain's chair with Jim, he did not show it.

"Good morning to you Captain," he greeted, nodding his head respectfully. "And you, Assistant Pa'tar."

The little Vulcan looked up, trying valiantly to hide his surprise and just managing it. Jim was not so successful at stopping himself from rolling his eyes – that Spock, never missed a beat. "This is First Officer Commander Spock, Pa'tar," Jim said dryly.

"Hello Mr. Spock," the young child said, his cheeks slightly greened with the effort of keeping his voice emotionless. Jim saw, out of the corner of his eye, the female Andorian who was covering the communication's desk smiling affectionately at the Vulcan child. Jim gave Spock an amused look, to which Spock merely quirked an eyebrow.

He had barely returned to his finally beef-free breakfast when several things happened all at once. The Andorian sitting in Chekov's chair turned and said urgently, "Captain –" but he was drowned out by the loud burst of static that issued from the communicator in Jim's pocket. The Captain had barely closed his fingers around it when Bones' voice crackled through.

"_Jim!…the Remans…attack...coming now, hurry!_" it exclaimed brokenly, and by the time that Jim had got the thing out of his pocket all that he could hear was static.

"Bones!" he yelled into the device, but there was no reply.

"Two Romulan ships approaching port side at warp nine, sir!" the Andorian finished. "Arrival in 40 seconds."

"Shit!" Jim said loudly, and then he clapped his hands first to his mouth and then Pa'tar's pointy little ears. He seized the child, still clutching the datapad, and thrust him into the nearest Andorian's arms. "Take him down to the mess hall, then get those kids into the medical bay and seal it off – it's in the middle of the ship so if we're attacked they should be safe."

The Andorian did as he was requested, leaving Jim and Spock with the five other crew members on the bridge. "Go to red alert! Spock?!" Jim demanded, urgently and desperately as the sirens around them began to blare. The Vulcan knew immediately what he was asking.

"We do not have enough crew to both maneuver and attack, Captain," Spock replied.

"Well we can't out fly them," Jim said, staring out at the still-empty space around them. "Shields to maximum then, and arm all weapons."

The doors of the bridge opened and Sahran skidded in, his antennae spinning wildly. Jim turned to him, ordering, "Get all your available men to engineering and the weapons array."

The Andorian nodded and slid back out of the room, followed by a few of the remaining bridge officers. Now the only manned stations were the ones normally belonging to Sulu, Checkov and Uhura. "Spock, bring us out of warp, disengage thrusters and divert all transport and auxiliary power to shields," he said tensely, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

A moment later, as Spock was saying, "Yes, Captain" and the _Enterprise_ was dropping from warp, he got the shock of his life as the whole screen was suddenly filled with an angry blue face.

"Captain Kirk," the Reman snarled. "You have violated our agreement by acquiring additional crew members. It was a mistake we will not forgive. Goodbye."

The screen went black again, and that was that. There was no room for discussion or interpretation as the next second the hull was buffeted by what felt like a phaser canon. Two ships, one of which Jim recognized as the one that had previously attacked them, loomed on the view screen after a few seconds. Jim threw himself into the Captain's chair again to avoid being shaken off his feet as Spock reported, "Shields are at 97% Captain, though it is unlikely we can maintain this power supply for long, at which point a decrease in strength is inevitable."

"If the power starts to drop start diverting life support from the lower decks – there's nobody down there anyway," Jim said edgily as they were hit by phaser blasts that made the panel lights flicker. "Signal the _Grignard_!"

A moment later, Valik's face appeared on the view screen. He looked distinctly untroubled. "Yes, Captain Kirk?"

"Care to help us out here Valik?" Jim bellowed over a noisy explosion and the blaring sirens.

Valik's eyes widened and his face took on a somber, regretful expression, but his antennae dancing merrily atop his head. "I'm sorry, but our ship is simply too damaged."

A now-familiar rage rose in Jim. "You could give us some cover, until we sort out our weapons array!"

"Sorry Jim," Valik replied indolently. "It's just not possible."

"You smarmy bastard!" Jim roared. "Do you not even give a rat's ass about your own crew members on board here!? Fuck you and your Andorian loyalty then!"

He slammed his hand down on the communication pad, ending the transmission. "Jim!" Spock exclaimed.

"Don't start to lecture me Spo-"

But Spock had jabbed his hand at Jim's communicator, which had been knocked to the floor. Jim went to grab it and heard a faint voice that only Spock's sensitive hearing had picked up over the screaming sirens. It was Bones.

"Jim!" the doctor was saying, over and over. Jim lunged for it, tripping halfway and only just catching himself on the edge of Spock's pilot chair. He wrenched the communicator off the floor and brought it to his mouth.

"Bones!" he bellowed over the wailing red alerts.

"Jim! We're on board the _Malonic_! Get us out of here!" Bones' voice crackled urgently.

"_What?_ I'm a little busy being attaced Bones!" Jim yelled, but Spock's fingers were already tapping rapidly on the consol in front of him.

"Captain, according to my scans the ship attacking us _is_ the Romulan Warbird _Malonic_," the Vulcan informed him. Jim's mouth fell open and he simply stared at Spock and the Andorian in the seat beside him until another rocket blast hit the ship, sending alarm bells dinging from most of the consols in the room.

"_Shit_," Jim swore again. "Dammit! We can't even destroy the gaddamn ship until I go get them then! Are they in transporter range?"

"They are," Spock confirmed. "However, the energy needed to reactivate the transporter room and the life support on the decks leading to it from the bridge will severely deplete the energy reinforcing our shields."

Jim raked his hands through his hair. "I'm taking the escape pod," he decided. "You're in charge until we get back."

Spock turned in his chair and said seriously, "Captain, I would suggest you take some of Mr. Sahran's men with you and exercise extreme caution."

Which was Spock's way of saying _don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed_.

"Good idea" Jim agreed. _It'll be fine, don't worry_. "I'm going to need you to cover me, um…"

Jim' trailed off awkwardly, realizing he did not know the name of the Andorian sitting in Chekov's chair. "Farzol," the alien supplied, and then saluted.

"Great, see you soon," Jim said, and then he dashed out of the bridge.

Fifteen minutes later found Jim gliding their only escape pod out of the docking bay, two Andorians in the seats behind him. As they flew into open space, Jim was forced to dodge the energy bombs and phaser beams that were crisscrossing between the ships. Inwardly thanking his Starfleet flying instructors, Jim ducked and swerved his way between the vessels, making for an open port on the side. As he flew in, he saw that most of the pod bays were filled with the _Enterprise's_ own shuttles. Perfect.

Wordlessly, the two Andorians - whose names Jim had found out were Tazam and Latal - and Jim disembarked the escape pod and slunk into the hallway of the alien ship. It was a stark contrast to what Jim was used to. The _Enterprise_ was a sleek, bright ship, but the _Malonic_ was darkly lit and undecorated. The effect was quite ominous.

They crept along the hall until they reached the nearest com pad. Jim had a large bag of phaser pistols in a sack over his back, like some type of twisted Santa Claus, making it hard for him to be stealthy. Once he reached it, Jim punched away at the screen until he found a map of the ship and began to scan it frantically. He had only just managed to locate the brig when there was a whooshing noise, _pazow_, behind him and one of the Andorians – Tazam, he thought – was blasted off his feet and crumpled to the wall of the corridor, dead.

Jim whipped around and unleashed a torrent of phaser blasts at their aggressors. The two Reman security guards dropped like flies under the combined onslaught of Jim and Latal's weapons. Once they had fallen, Jim turned to go, saying, "Come on, the brig is this way."

He trailed off. Latal had stooped and was hoisting Tazam's body onto his shoulders. "What are you doing?" Jim asked incredulously.

"I apologize Captain, but I must bring his body back to the shuttle before I can continue, in case we do not have time during our retreat," the Andorian said seriously.

"We don't have time now," he said in exasperation, but he understood all the same. Jim guessed they must have been friends, and Jim knew he would feel the same way about Bones, or Spock. Spock, who would _really_ not like what Jim was about to do. The Andorian looked torn for a moment until Jim said, "Fine, I'll head down there now and you meet me as soon as you can. It's on Deck 3."

They gave each other brief friendly nods before each taking off in a different direction. Jim dashed down the halls, pausing only momentarily at each corner to peer around it before he pelted pell-mell to the next one. As he ran through a third corridor he heard voices coming around the corner. Without really planning it, he crashed through the first door he reached and realized, to his immense relief, that it was a staircase. He flew down the flights taking three and four steps at a time until he reached Deck 3.

He stopped, his hand on the door to the corridor, to take a few steadying gasps of air. As quietly as possible he pulled open the door and slipped through it, slinking into the next corridor. He tiptoed to the corner, ducked around it and had to stifle a gasp.

He had turned into a huge room that was really just a widening of the hallway. Not more than ten feet from him sat an angry-looking Reman at an imposingly huge desk that mostly spanned the hallway. Behind that angry Reman, filling the hallway, were eight foot high cages crammed with people. In the cage right behind the guard was Bones, whose jaw dropped open at the sight of Jim.

Jim ducked behind the corner again, breathing hard. Carefully, silently, he slid just half his face around the edge of the wall with his phaser hand. The Reman guard appeared to be dozing, which was why he hadn't noticed Jim in the first place. Jim shot and his aim was true. After a single shot the guard slumped in his chair and Bones hissed, "Jim!"

"Bones!" Jim said, slightly cockily, after he had scanned the area for more guards. He grinned as he walked over and pulled the keys off of the desk. He began flipping through them as he reached the door of the cage that the good doctor was in, along with what looked like most of the medical staff. "Where are the rest of the guards?" he asked.

"There aren't any," a distinctly Scottish voice answered from one cage over. It was Scotty, surrounded by most of the engineering crew. "There can't be more than a hundred and fifty Remans on this whole ship."

"What?" Jim asked, incredulous. "Then how did they manage to take you all prisoner?"

"Drugged us in our welcome meal," Bones said bitterly as Jim finally found the right key. "I should have noticed."

"Yup, you should have" Jim agreed, in higher spirits than he knew was really appropriate for a dangerous away mission. It was great to see his crew again. Behind the emptying cage he now saw there was a cell door through which he saw Uhura's haughty face. Out of pure habit, he winked. She scowled. He grinned even wider. He tossed Bones the sack of pistols, saying sardonically, "Merry Christmas Bonesy."

As soon as the doctor and some of his group were armed, Jim reluctantly let him go head up to the escape pods, knowing there was simply not enough room in the corridor for the whole crew to stand around twiddling their thumbs. Regardless of what the crew said, he found it very odd that no other security forces had come to check on them. He didn't fancy presenting the ease that the Remans would have in killing his crew if they encountered all 430 of them standing around.

"Just don't go calling our communicators," Bones warned him as he ushered the nurses away. "The Remans took them all."

"Got it. Get Spock to reinstate life support when you get back!" Jim called after the retreating doctor. Bones waved his hand over his head in acknowledgement as he turned the corner, and Jim felt a pang of apprehension to see his friend disappear again. He turned his attention to Uhura's cell, which seemed to contain most of the bridge crew. He felt extremely fond of them all as he managed to open the door and they filed past him, Chekov's grin mirroring his own. He unwillingly sent them away as well with instructions to get the ship going before he got back.

He continued uninterrupted until the only people left to free were the engineering crew. He set himself to freeing Scotty, who he noticed for the first time was still wearing his nightshirt with the Starfleet badge pinned to it that he had been wearing when Jim last saw him seven days ago. The Scot was extremely curious as to who was running the weapons and engineering aboard the Enterprise with Jim over here. At the mention of Sahran and his Andorian crew, Scotty paled. By the time Jim got the Chief Engineer freed he looked positively fretful to get back to his ship.

"Lord knows what they've done to it," he was muttering. Jim flashed him a grin as he handed some of the senior officers the last remaining phaser pistols.

"Promise me you'll play nicely Scotty. We own that Andorian a lot," he said as he scanned the cells and cages for any remaining crew members. Satisfied that they were all clear, Jim turned to the Scot and motioned for him and his crew to follow as he headed for the corner. "Come on Scotty, I want to get back to my ship."

They had hardly rounded the corner when a black-clad security force came bursting out of the staircase to the upper floors. Jim threw himself against the wall as Scotty and the engineers behind him immediately returned fire. Jim groped for his own phaser, which he had stupidly left clipped to the loop of his belt. There were shouts and groans as fighters on either side folded to the floor. Jim took aim and hit the leader of the Reman force in the shoulder, causing him to fall over backwards into the rest of them.

Under the force of the Enterprise's crew's arsenal the Remans were back up down the corridor. Jim ducked under the firing phasers and wrenched open the now accessible door to the stairs. He grabbed the sleeve of the nearest armed officer and all but threw him into the stairwell, barking, "Get to the escape pod!"

He had pulled a few of the unarmed crew through the door before the rest got the idea. Scotty and his men covered their exit as the Remans yelled into their communicators, "They're heading upstairs!"

"Go!" Jim urged. Only Scotty and his men were left. Jim bellowed at them all to get out, taking aim at the two aggressors remaining in the hallway. Scotty gave him a look that clearly said_ No effing way_, but Jim replied, without taking his eyes off of the Remans, "Do it Scotty or I'll shoot you myself!"

He left, leaving Jim alone with the Remans. They battled for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. Jim was exhausted from dodging and diving around the shots they fired at him. He pulled the stairwell door further open, sheltering behind it as he continued to attack. He managed to hit one dead in the chest and they fell across the body of another Reman, but the other one advanced on him, ducking the shots swiftly until he was nearly level with Jim in the hall. The Captain narrowly evaded the next shot, retreating up the stairs and ducking behind the solid banisters. His communicator crackled and he heard Spock's voice demand, "Captain, where are you? Mr. Scott has informed me that you sent him ahead and stayed to battle. Report please!"

"They're safe?" Jim hissed.

"They are on the shuttles. What is your status?"

"Sorry Spock," Jim began, about to explain how he came to be alone, but the plaster on the wall above him exploded as it was hit by an energy beam and his sentence was cut off. Jim chanced a look over the top of the low railing.

Pain seared through him, his nerves set on fire as he was blasted backwards and into the already-crumbling wall. He screamed in agony as blazing energy shot through his fingers and toes, making them feel as if they were cooking from within. He heart skipped unevenly and he had to force himself to breathe as the wall above him showered him in dust and bits of plaster and metal. He heard Spock exclaim in alarm, "_Jim_!"

The Reman advanced and picked up Jim's pistol, which had fallen from his hand. He stood not two feet from the Captain and Jim suddenly recognized him as the Reman Captain. There was relish in his face as he leered down at Jim and flipped the phaser dial from kill to stun and back.

"It's hard to decide," the alien said, sounding distinctly relaxed. "Whether you are more useful to me as a hostage or dead."

"How about neither?" came a furious voice from over the other Captain's shoulder, and then there was a burst of light and the Reman fell, his face vaguely surprised, to reveal Bones. Jim grinned lopsidedly, his heart still skipping dangerously.

"Bonesy," he attempted a drawl.

"Dammit Jim, why do you insist on being the most grievously injured after every mission?" Bones demanded as he hoisted the Captain up, slinging Jim's arm over his shoulder.

"Captain!" Jim's communicator demanded again. Bones reached over and grabbed it, flipping it open.

"I've got the idiot Spock," he growled. "He should be ok."

"Should I?" Jim said vaguely as he was hauled up the stairs by his Chief Medical Officer.

"Come on Jim, I'm a doctor not an escalator," Bones growled as they neared the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here Bones? I sent you back," Jim realized dimly.

"Never got to go," Bones said, panting slightly under Jim's weight. "We were attacked, they knew we were trying to evacuate. It was that Andorian that saved us, he just came bursting out of the escape pods and distracted them long enough for most of the unarmed crew to get aboard and then we held them off. Took every gun we had to bring them down, and then Scotty told me some had come down there to get you."

Jim blanched, but the news seemed to restore some of his urgency and purpose. He thought about the dead crew members on Deck 3. "How many more did we lose?"

Bones simply sent him a grim look. Against all odds they made it to the floor with the escape pods on it. Some of the feeling had started to return to Jim's extremities and now his heart was beating more regularly, if not extremely quickly.

They dashed through the hall as quickly as the Captain could manage. Soon they reached the scene of the standoff outside the escape shuttles. Jim's heart fell to see the dozens of bodies that littered the floor, both Starfleet and Reman. He was just clambering toward the last remaining shuttle – the _Grignard's_ - when his eye caught on one of the blue men that lay immobile on the hallway floor. The colour of the alien's skin was slightly off. Jim stopped beside him, and turned him over.

It was Latal, as he had known it was. He stooped to hoist the body over his shoulder. The Andorian deserved as much, if what Bones said was true. The doctor was standing in the door of the pod, yelling, "Hurry up Jim! They could be back any second."

Sure enough, Bones had hardly closed the door to the shuttle when the light of phaser beams once again flashed through the hallway. Jim laid Latal down beside his fellow before shouting at his friend, "Get us out of here Bones!"

The doctor proved to be an excellent pilot, for all his talk about hating flying. Only his extremely white knuckles betrayed his feelings as he steered them through the firefight now raging full-scale between the two ships and brought them into the Enterprise receiving bay. There was a brief scuffle as they disembarked and Bones tried to force Jim to go to the medical bay, with which he was (expectedly) dramatically unsuccessful, and then they were both barreling to the bridge.

"Shields at twenty three percent!" he heard a distinctly Russian voice exclaim as they both burst though the door. Chekov had resumed hi post, Sulu beside him. Only one Andorian remained, manning Spock's station as the Vulcan was standing in front of the Captain's chair, staring intently at the ships attacking them. He turned, hands clasped tightly behind his back, at the sound of Jim and Bones' arrival.

Jim sent him a very genuine if not weary grin, jumping the steps don to him and clapping him on the shoulder. "Told you I'd be back, Mr. Spock."

"Captain," Spock was stern, but Jim could see his relief in the subtle release of tension in his brow and the shining of his dark eyes. "You should be in the medical bay."

He sent Bones a reproachful look. The doctor held up his hands in defense and protested, "I _tried_."

An explosion rocked the ship. "Shields at nineteen percent!' Chekov said urgently.

"Damage to decks four, five, seven, and ten Captain," Sulu added.

"Evasive maneuvers Sulu," Jim said, trying not to look to eager to sit down as he took his chair. Spock remained beside him, his eyes back on the Reman ships. "Reroute as much power to the shields as you can."

Another blast shook the ship, buffeting Jim's aching body in his seat.

"Shields at sewenteen percent!" Chekov intoned, and then there was a blaze of light in the window in front of them. Out of nothingness two large Federation ships dropped out of warp, their guns blazing, and bore down on the Reman vessels.

"Sir, transmission from the Federation ships," Uhura said, and an unfamiliar voice came over the communication system.

"This is Commodore Robert Wesley, captain of the USS _Lexington_. Please confirm you have rescued your crew from the enemy vessels so that we can neutralize them with all necessary force," the other captain said.

"We have," Jim replied, yelling slightly to be heard over the persistent red alert sirens. When this was over he was going to go around and smash every single one.

"Well done," Wesley said. "I would suggest you get away from the fight, your shields are dangerously low."

"Yes sir," Jim said, tacking on the honorific seeing as the other man did rank above him. Bones' eyebrows shot into his hair and he seemed to be reconsidering how hard Jim had hit his head smashing into that wall.

The rest of the battle took all of three minutes, as when the Remans realized they were suddenly far out-gunned – the Grignard chose that moment to finally contribute to the attack – they turned tail and warped away. The Federation ships did not follow. Instead, they turned back toward the crippled Starship, pulling up alongside it on either side. Uhura reported they were receiving another transmission, and this time a friendly looking face flickered onto the video screen.

The Commodore had an honest, care-worn face and black hair that was just starting to be peppered with grey. He surveyed the entire bridge crew before speaking. "Captain Kirk," he said, sounding very pleased. "Good to see most of your crew back safely – nice work."

Jim couldn't help but think that it was his fault that the crew had been gone in the first place, but he did not say it out loud. Instead, he inclined his head and said, "Thank you. You have really good timing."

There were some scattered chuckles from the bridge crew and Wesley gave and appreciative smile. "I see you've picked up some new crew as well," his eyes lingered on the Andorian. Jim turned to look at him and was relieved to see he recognized the alien. He struggled for a brief moment to remember his name.

"Yeah. This is Farzol, he's one of about ten Andorians who are staying with us. Plus three Vulcans," Jim said. "I'm issuing them all field commissions."

"Very good," Wesley agreed. "Admiral Pike has told us that you can't go past warp four, so we're supposed to go hunt down those Reman ships and deal with them. We'll stay here until you can get your ship repaired enough to get your shields back up."

"Great," Jim said. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Captain," Wesley said in a friendly way and then he flickered off screen.

"We need to contact Admiral Pike and tell him what's happened," Jim sighed, rising from his chair with difficulty. As he got to his feet he felt lightheaded and stumbled. At once, both Bones and Spock reached out and grabbed one of his arms.

"Jim – " they both began, then they both stopped – Spock because he didn't want to interrupt the doctor, and Bones because he was staring incredulously at Spock.

"Captain," Spock continued after it became evident Bones was not going to be able to finish his sentence. "I would recommend that you have the doctor look you over. I can report to Admiral Pike."

Jim shook his head. "No, I'd rather just go change and wash my face – I'll be fine."

He took another few shaky steps, but neither of the other men was fooled. "_Captain_," Spock began again.

"Fine Spock, you can escort me back to my quarters if you are so worried," Jim said exasperatedly. That actually sounded like a good idea. "Bones can report back to the Admiral – he knows the story better than both of us actually."

Bones looked ready to protest, so Jim turned and walked away as quickly as he could towards the doors. He had nearly made it out when Bones called, "I'll be coming to examine you in your room if you don't get your ass to medical later tonight."

Jim waved a consenting hand over his head and kept waling, Spock in tow. They didn't talk until they reached Jim's quarters – Jim was pretty sure that talking would immediately lead to something they didn't want to do in the crowded corridors.

He wasn't surprised, therefore, when he felt Spock's hand thread into his as soon as the doors had shut. He sighed, leaning his back against the wall of the room tiredly. He used their joined hands to pull Spock up against him and rested his forehead on the slightly taller man's shoulder, breathing deeply.

"That was close Spock," Jim said. The Vulcan knew what he was talking about.

"You did not do as I requested," Spock said. "You should not have attempted to combat the Reman forces alone – it was reckless."

"_I'm_ reckless," Jim said, in a puff of laughter.

"Indeed," Spock said. He sounded thoroughly not amused. He turned his head slightly so his mouth brushed Jim's ear as he continued, "I would request you modify that particular aspect of your personality but I know that it is highly unlikely you would succeed in doing so."

"Hmm," Jim sighed, turning his face into Spock's neck and kissing it gently. A warm hand slid around his back and under his shirt. "Keep saying it like that and I might just manage it."

They stood there in silence for a few moments before Jim spoke.

"I'm going to tell Bones about us, if that's ok," Jim said softly. "He'll figure it out anyway eventually."

"I had expected as much," Spock replied calmly. "I hope you would not protest to me telling Lieutenant Uhura, should she attempt to renew her relationship with me?"

"Go ahead," Jim said wearily. "Right now I don't give a damn who knows. It took everything I had not to pounce you on the bridge."

Spock did not reply, so Jim looked up and saw the Vulcan looking down at him with his eyebrow cocked in amusement again. Jim smiled and, lacing his free hand into the other's dark hair, pulled their lips together. His senses flooded with the smell, taste and feel of the Vulcan as they kissed avidly. Spock had managed to contain his feelings on the bridge but now he poured out all his worry, his fear and his anger of the last few hours into the passion of the kiss, his strong grip pulling Jim off the wall so that their hips ground together.

Jim grinned against Spock's mouth, rubbing his fingertips over the Vulcan's intimately. He felt Spock try to pull away and held him in place with his hand, unwilling to stop the delicious sensation of their dueling tongues. He arched his body up against the Vulcan's, wanting to feel that hot chest against his own aching muscles. Spock's hand at his back slipped around his body and gently pushed them apart.

"You are not well enough for intimate physical interactions Jim," Spock said, though the corners of his mouth were smiling.

"_Sex_, its called sex Spock," Jim sighed, amused. Without support, he sunk back against the wall, somewhat negating his claim of, "And I'm _always_ well enough for it."

"You are not," Spock said, reasonably. He freed his hands and placed them on both Jim's temples. Jim felt the familiar little bump and then the vague, drifting tendrils of Spock's emotions as he opened a pseudo meld. Jim could feel him appraising Jim's physical state intently.

He was amused to feel a little residual lust waft over to him, and he murmured, "Come on, you know you wanna."

Spock broke the connection and slid his hands backwards through Jim's hair, making Jim's knees turn to putty. The Vulcan's fingers worked across his scalp, kneading and gently pulling his hair so precisely that it was as if he knew exactly where the pain was – which, Jim reflected, was entirely possible. Stupid manipulative Vulcan.

Next thing he knew, he was being lifted onto the couch and laid down gently. Jim grinned sleepily – he liked this couch a lot. Spock looked down at him and said, disappointingly, "I must return to the bridge. I request that you get some rest."

"_Fine_," Jim yawned and reached out to quickly brush his fingers against the Vulcan's hand that was closest to him. He shut his eyes and was asleep before Spock had even left the room.

A few hours later found him sitting shirtless and very cheerfully on one of the sick bay beds, Bones running a tricorder over him. "I still can't believe you came," the doctor was saying. "You normally avoid this place like the plague."

"Yeah well," Jim said with a lazy smile. "I thought you might like the practice before you have to examine the whole crew."

Bones looked up at him in horror. "Before I do _what_, Jim?"

"Oh come on Bones," Jim said as if it was obvious. "You guys have been in a Reman prison for seven days. Surely you want to check that everybody's okay?"

"You are a sadistic twisted man," he said. "And theoretically I shouldn't have to check you or Spock, though Spock told me he was exposed to _trellium-D_ of all things, and you of course managed to be here anyway. How did you get these bruises anyway? You've got them all over you. They from Spock?"

"Which ones?" Jim asked. Bones indicated the ones on his abdomen. Jim grinned wickedly. "Yup, those are from Spock."

"Hm, he must have done a number on you with that trellium-D for them still to show seven days later," the doctor mused.

"Oh, this wasn't because of the trellium," Jim egged Bones on with his mischievous grin, daring him to ask.

"Oh…kay," Bones said slowly, warily. He decided to take the bait. "How did you get them then?"

"Do you want the G-rated version, or the adults-only edition?" Jim asked, leaning back on his hands to fully enjoy the effect this sentence was sure to have. He was not disappointed.

"_What_?" Bones choked. Jim merely looked at him innocently. Bones made several pinching motions on his forehead as if he was trying to pull what Jim had just said out of his memory through his face. Apparently unsuccessful, he said, "Am I about to find out why Spock kept calling you Jim all day?"

"Did he?" Jim had been too tired to notice. He smiled at the thought, and Bones' look of horror increased.

"Oh god _dammit_ Jim, I'm too old for this shit," Bones sank onto the bed across from him.

"I'm not," Jim said cheerfully.

"Clearly," the doctor eyed him with the slightly shocked-but-intrigued look of somebody driving past a massive car crash. He gulped. "Alright, alright, tell me the story. But keep it G-rated, for the love of god. I need to sleep tonight."

Jim grinned, repositioned himself so that he was sprawled more comfortably on the bed and began his story.


	10. Heading Home

Hey all –

So I'm sick, so chapters take a while to write and stuff. Two notes:

1) This chapter is _actually_ M. For serious. I warned you. :P

2) I haven't proof read this and I'm too tired to, so sorry for any major typos.

Thank you to _Tioman, RowanWolf, Jord-El, Hatori Soma, Teldra, LunarEclipse, Chicapanzy, xKayla xKatastrophe, Secret Thought, Sammy, SnowKissYuki, Yana5, lovefan81, Pheonixfire979, DizzyBaby, Ai-Sarang_ (we'll see!), _Sevrin Saphir, MirrorFlower and Darkwind, hpets, Fitful Fantasy, gwynhefar, my renji-kun, Lady Squish,_ and _Mellyna_ for their awesome reviews.

_Lala woman:_ ha, I have a list half a page long of fics I want to write, but after that we'll see! I'd have to see the movie first.

_Ariii. Chan_ and _wmonica_: ha, you caught that did you!

_Hikaru: _NASA?! do tell! And thank _you_ for reviewing, because most readers don't do _that_!

Two general replies: yeah, I do like writing action sequences (glad you enjoyed them!) and yes, Pa'tar is around, you'll see!

This chapter is for you guys, with much love.

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_**Stardate 2258.123. **__At the request of the Federation, the _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the Enterprise is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. An encounter with Reman rebels leaves Jim and Spock the only ones on board, until they pick up some Andorian refugees and are able to rescue their cr__ew. Heavily damaged, the _Enterprise_ awaits orders from Starfleet. _

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As soon as he awoke, Jim became distinctly aware of two things. The first was that, compared to his recent habit, it was really unpleasant to wake up without a hot Vulcan beside him. The bed felt distinctly cold and empty.

The second was that it was _really_ time for a good meal. He had gone straight to bed after regaling Bones with the story of Spock and his time alone aboard the ship, his body still feeling weak from the shock it had received aboard the _Malonic_. That left the last time that he had eaten anything being the few mouthfuls of porridge he'd had in the wearily hours if yesterday, and all he'd had was breakfast the day before that.

Deciding that he'd rather skip dealing with the Vulcan children still filing his mess hall, Jim dressed quickly and headed instead to the recreation rooms. He replicated himself a sausage and cheese breakfast sandwich and then decided to get Spock a fruit salad and go wake him up. Munching away happily, he set a course for Spock's quarters.

He was vaguely surprised to find the door to the First Officer's room slightly ajar. This little disturbance was quickly explained by the sight that met him when he entered; Spock sat, legs folded, on the floor in the center of the room. He was clearly meditating, which Jim supposed was not all that unusual. Beside him, however, in the exact same position was Pa'tar. Jim was fairly sure that the child was too young to actually be meditating, and judging by the way that his eyes kept cracking open and shooting furtive glances at Spock, he had snuck in and was merely copying him. Jim smiled and carefully set the fruit salad on the desk by the door.

Though Jim couldn't hear the sound, the noise of the bowl on the table was evidently audible to the young Vulcan. The child's eyes snapped to him and he pressed an admonitory finger to his mouth, plainly telling Jim to be quiet. An instant later the little Vulcan realized who he was shushing and flushed dark green, looking horrified. Jim couldn't help it, he chuckled softly.

One of Spock's eyes cracked open, catching sight of Jim before looking over at the younger Vulcan beside him. He closed his eyes again, apparently untroubled by either of their presences. Jim motioned at Pa'tar to come to the door, and together they slipped into the hall.

"Why don't we leave Mr. Spock to do the rest of his meditation in peace, okay?" he said, indicating that the little Vulcan should follow him down the hall as he started for the bridge.

"Mr. Spock told me that I should feel welcome to attempt meditation with him in the mornings to help restore my self control," Pa'tar said, a shade defensively.

"I'm sure you are welcome," Jim said as the climbed into the turbolift. He smiled down at the child. "But I need you on the bridge right now."

There was a long pause. "You have an unusual relationship with Mr. Spock," Pa'tar said as the lift started.

Jim started, and then looked down at the child in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Pa'tar looked at him seriously. "You behave in a manner typical of those who have undergone _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_."

"Pardon?" Jim said. The young Vulcan looked frustrated, as if he were looking for the right words.

"You are very emotionally connected," the child flushed slightly.

Jim looked down at him, gawping a bit. "Um, yeah, we are," Jim admitted. Pa'tar merely nodded as the lift dinged open.

He was pleased to find Tavol on the bridge when he arrived. Of his normal bridge crew, only Uhura was already at her station – the rest were being manned by more junior members of the navigation crew overnight.

"You're up early," Uhura observed as Jim took his chair.

Pa'tar trotted up to stand beside him and Jim lifted him absent-mindedly onto the arm of the chair as he replied, "I'm Captain, so whenever I decide to get up is the right time."

He grinned at her and she glared back in annoyance, but Jim could tell she was secretly enjoying herself. It was good to be back.

"So Tavol," Jim said, still smiling as he looked over at the Vulcan who had been talking with the Ensign in Sulu's chair. "Feel up for a job?"

"Of course, Captain," the _V'tosh ka'tur _replied immediately, coming over. He nodded at Pa'tar, who gazed impassively up at him.

"I need you to relocate our Vulcan guests to some of the empty crew quarters. My crew is back and I'm sure they will want to make use of their mess hall before long. Master Pa'tar here," Jim patted the child affectionately on the shoulder, "has already compiled a list of everything you will need to supply the children comfortably and will be able to help you direct your men to finding it. Borrow some of Scotty' team – I think we've got two whole crews down in engineering from what I've heard, what with Sahran's men down there."

"As you wish," Tavol nodded again, and Pa'tar slid off the chair and followed the older Vulcan out the door.

"Right," Jim clapped his hands together after the two Vulcans had gone. "Uhura?"

She swiveled in her chair to face him, her eyebrows sarcastic. "Yes Captain?"

He leant back, stretching out in the chair, and asked her in a slightly hurt voice, "When are you going to start taking me seriously?"

"Whenever you start taking yourself seriously, Captain," she said the last word as if it had a period in the very centre of it.

"Such an event is extremely improbable in the foreseeable future, Ensign," a calm voice issued from the door, and Spock strode onto the bridge. Jim's grin widened as Spock came up to stand beside him and said, "Good morning Captain."

"Hey Spock," Jim stretched out a little more on the chair, trying to subtly flex his biceps so that the rest of the crew wouldn't notice. Spock was pointedly not looking at him, though Jim could see the tell-tale clench of his jaw that meant he was holding in a smile. Jim sat up a little straighter again and turned back to Uhura. "Uhura, I forgot to ask Dr. McCoy last night if Admiral Pike was planning to send us orders or not."

It had taken quite a while for Bones to get over Jim's little announcement and get down to business. Jim had had the impression that the doctor might never actually get over it, but true to form he had been good natured enough about it. Jim had teased him mercilessly, slipping in comments that were technically innocent but he knew Bones would transform into vivid mental images sure to occupy his mind at the most inappropriate times.

"He was going to review the situation with the Command and get back to us today," Uhura said, referring to Admiral Pike. The communication's officer's eye were fixed suspiciously on Spock who, Jim turned and saw with drop in his stomach, had been glancing at him with that distinct twinkle in his eye.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness that was broken by the entrance of Sulu and Chekov, who were evidently having a heated discussion.

"I'm telling you, the Kelvin scale was a British invention," Sulu was saying.

"Is Russian," Chekov insisted as they stepped through the doors. "Kewlin is Russian name, so it must be Russian inwention."

Sulu looked ready to retort, but his reply died on his lips as he caught sight of the Captain. Jim saw him shoot a look at his watch hurriedly; evidently he thought he must be late.

"Good morning Sulu, Chekov," Jim said cheerfully as the two settled into their seats. He nodded at the two relieved junior officers as they left and then cleared his throat and said, "Uhura, could you get Scotty and Sahran up here? Better call Tavol and Bones too – I want to have all my stuff together before Pike calls us back."

She complied with surprisingly little scorn, and soon the crew had assembled on the bridge. Jim beamed around at them all, inordinately pleased to have them all back. "Right," he said, clapping his hands together for a second him. "First things first. Scotty, what's going on in engineering?"

"Repairs are progressing nicely Captain – I suspect we will be back to maximum shield power within an hour or so," the Scotsman said, looking pleased. One of his hands was absentmindedly tracing over the nearest console, stroking it almost lovingly. Jim grinned.

"Great, how are the two crews working together? Do you need Sahran to assign some of his men to other departments?" he asked.

"Ah, no," Scotty said, looking suddenly downcast. "After yesterday we're rather short-staffed. Sahran's men are making themselves downright useful. They're better at repairing our ship than our own men are."

"We have already done it once," the Andorian pointed out modestly, though his antennae were waving in a happy sort of way.

"Excellent, thank you men. Let me know when the repairs are down and we can get underway, won't you?" Jim said, slinging his legs over the arm of the chair.

"Aye, Captain, that we will," Scotty said and turned to go.

Sahran nodded, but he did not leave. He looked as if he had something to say, so Jim obliged him. "Yes, Mr. Sahran?"

"Captain, I wanted to thank you, on behalf of my fellows, for returning Latal and Tazam to the Enterprise. I understand it is not usually your custom to do so."

"No problem," Jim said, slightly embarrassed. The Andorian simply nodded again, and this time both he and Scotty turned to go.

"Mr. Scott," Spock said, stopping them again. Scotty looked positively anxious to get back to his engineering crew. Spock held out what appeared to be a heavily insulated box about the size of a loaf of bread. "This is a Romulan device I was hoping you might examine at your next convenience."

"Ah'll do it just as soon as my engineering department isn't blasted half ta hell, Mr. Spock, he said in a vaguely harassed voice.

"I'm sure you will find it most intriguing, once you get the opportunity," Spock said calmly. The two engineers left the bridge together.

"Looks like you've made a loyal crewman there," Bones said, referring to Sahran, as he leant against Sulu's work station and sipped a coffee. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink.

"Oh you know me Bones, aliens do tend to find my charisma and general sensibility attractive," he said with a wink. Bones scowled at him and out of the corner of his eyes Jim could see Spock staring at him with one eyebrow arched. He ploughed on, "Mr. Tavol, how is the relocation going?"

"Very well, Captain," the Vulcan replied. "Your assistant has proven most helpful. I too feel compelled to thank you for the service you have done for Pa'tar."

"Ah, it's nothing," Jim said airily. "He's damn useful as you said anyway. Besides, Spock's helping him out too, from what I hear."

Tavol turned to Spock, looking interested. Spock's face was impassive as he explained, "Both the child and I seem to be experiencing side effects of the same neurotoxin. In addition, because of my lineage I have had more experience in controlling unwanted emotion than most Vulcans. It was logical that I offer my tutelage to the boy."

"Uh huh," said Jim, unconvinced.

"Is that really a good plan?" Bones said skeptically. "I mean, teaching him to bottle up emotions hasn't seemed to work out too well for you, has it? You just build up tension until you explode and nearly kill your Captain."

A flicker of anger crossed Spock's face, but before he could reply Jim was saying, with a valiant attempt to keep his face straight, "Yeah Spock, you really _suck_ at that. Somehow I always end up on the _receiving end _of that _explosion_ of _pent up frustration_."

Spock's mouth fell slightly open in shock, as did a shrewd Uhura's, but nobody else seemed to notice because Bones had spat out his mouthful of coffee all over Chekov and dumped the rest of the cup on Sulu. Both navigation officers were howling in pain as Bones gawped at Jim.

"What was that about?" Sulu protested, pulling off his shirt to get the burning coffee off of himself. Chekov was trying to wipe the faintly fizzling controls with the sleeves of his uniform.

Bones mouthed_ I hate you_ at Jim, who laughed, and turned to apologize to Sulu. Spock sent Jim a deeply sarcastic as Uhura continued to look back and forth between them like she couldn't believe her eyes. She was only diverted from this as her consol flashed and beeped behind her. She turned and a moment later reported, "We're getting a transmission from Starfleet, Captain."

An instant later Admiral Pike's face had appeared on the screen. He surveyed the scene with amusement as Jim whipped around so he was sitting properly in his chair, Bones stopped helping Chekov wipe the consol with his arms and the shirtless Sulu ceased trying to mop up his soaking crotch with his shirt. Spock quickly rearranged his features to a neutral expression as Tavol looked on, bemused.

"Not at all Admiral," Jim said, trying to sound as if his pilot was not half naked and half his crew was not soaked in coffee.

"Alright," Pike said, playing along. "I've got your orders for you. We will be sending the _Lexington_ and the _Excalibur_ to go hunt down the Remans while you are requested to continue to Tarod IX, to deliver the Vulcans you have aboard. I am sending you the coordinates as we speak."

Chekov turned and gave the Captain a thumbs up to indicate that they had received them as Pike continued, "Mr. Scott has informed us that the major damage to your engines will need to be repaired while the ship is docked in order to restore your warp capability, so your orders are to return to Earth after you have delivered the colonists."

"Admiral, our journey will need to include a detour to Andoria as well, so that we can return our additional crew members," Spock pointed out.

"Of course," Pike conceded. "Though if any of them are looking to join Starfleet then I give you permission, Jim, to give them commissions as you see fit. I dare say they deserve it for their loyalty. I've been told that Valik and his men are returning to Andoria to face sanctions from their government for failing to assist a Federation vessel in need."

"Duly noted, Sir," Jim said, positively jovial now. The doors to the bridge wished open and there was a jumble o quick, soft footfalls as Pa'tar hurried up to Jim's chair. He looked at the giant image of the Admiral staring down at him before saying quickly, "We have completed the relocation process Captain."

"Well done," Jim said, lifting the child onto his chair. He looked back at Pike with a hint of defiance to see the Admiral's mouth twitching suspiciously. "Is that everything Admiral? I need to go check on my passengers."

"For now," Pike said, looking smugly pleased at Jim in a way that reminded the Captain of the fathers at his little league hoverball games. "Keep us updated."

"Will do Admiral," Jim said getting up. Pike smiled and flickered off screen again. Pa'tar hopped off the chair too. Jim turned to Bones, feeling slightly guilty, and then to Tavol, saying, "Tavol I'm going to ask you to assist the doctor in the ship-wide physicals today, if that is alright with you."

The Vulcan nodded, and Bones said sarcastically, "Oh _now_ you feel bad. You could just apologize."

"For what?" Jim sent him a dazzling smile. "Chekov, once your station is dry could you announce to the crew that they have to all go get checked up? We'll do it alphabetically, so tell everyone to check their allotted time with the computer."

"Aye Keptain," Chekov set about drying his consol again, with Sulu's help.

"Pa'tar why don't you show me the new passenger quarters?" Jim said, looking down at the child. "Mr. Spock, could you take the bridge?"

Spock agreed, and Jim and the young Vulcan left the bridge.

The Captain spent the afternoon touring his ship. He left Pa'tar with the other young Vulcans after the child had shown him all the preparations he had laid out for their guests. Jim was impressed at the amount of detailed thought that that young child had come up with – he had very few suggestions and they were all minor. The other Vulcan children looked at the pair of them with unreadable expressions as they went about their business. Jim was so used to Spock, Tavol and Pa'tar that he had forgotten how emotionless normal Vulcans were.

Next he visited Scotty and Sahran. The Andorian informed him that the repairs were as complete as they were going to get and that they would be underway as soon as Chekov set a heading. The mood in engineering was nearly as subdued as it had been in the passenger quarters, and Jim noticed a few red eyes and sad faces as he inspected the repairs. He felt a pit in his stomach to see how many men Scotty had lost.

It was not until he had visited the medical bay, where Bones seemed to be swinging between gratitude that Tavol was taking some of his work load and distress that somebody else was in his sick bay, the weapons array and had checked on the repairs to the staircase that Spock had smashed up over a week ago that his path brought him back past the passenger quarters. It was well into the evening by now. He was passing the recreation room when he heard a cold little voice say, "Don't associate yourself with him T'Pok, he is not capable of behavious befitting a Vulcan anymore."

Cold settled into the pit of Jim's stomach as he suspected who those words were directed at. He stopped just out of sight of the door and listened.

"I am as capable of self control as you are," said Pa'tar's small voice, confirming Jim's suspicions.

"I find that statement improbable, given your recent unseemly behavior," the girl taunted coolly. "We are all aware that your deficiency is the reason for the Captain's unreasonable interest in you."

"It's not," Jim lied, stepping into the room finally. The little Vulcans turned to face him and he saw that Pa'tar's face was a sickly green, blotchy patches of colour peppering his cheeks. The young Vulcan girl who had been provoking him looked at Jim expressionlessly. He stared her down. "I have selected Master Pa'tar to assist me because I was sure that he had excellent computing and reasoning skills – something I think you will agree from his success at designing your current housing."

The girl stared at him stonily. He looked around the room to see the other Vulcans, including the adults, watching them expressionlessly. He looked at Pa'tar, who looked controlled at first glance, but Jim noticed his flushed face and his little hands clasped in tight fists. He sighed inwardly. "On that note, I require your assistance again Pa'tar, if you might come with me?"

Pa'tar looked up at him and some of the angry colour left his face. He nodded and followed the Captain as he led him from the room. They did not speak until they had reached the break room at the end of the hall, where Jim let the young Vulcan inside before following him in and closing the door. He sunk into one of the comfortable chairs and sat forward so that he was resting his head on his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. In that position his eyes were level with the young Vulcan. "Pa'tar," he said seriously. "Tell me what you are feeling."

Pa'tar looked at him warily before replying, "I do not desire self expression at this time."

"Well, as the Captain on this ship," Jim said softly, trying to be as friendly as possible while still being stern. "I am responsible for the well-being of my crew and guests. I would like to know what is upsetting me – I won't be mad if you get angry or upset."

Pa'tar looked at him, then finally nodded. There was a long silence and Jim got the impression the boy wasn't sure how to start.

"Tell me what happened," he prompted.

"T-T-Taraq," the child began hesitantly. Jim saw his fists re-clench. "She said I was no longer a V-V-Vulcan."

Pa'tar was shaking with anger and sadness. There was another long silence.

"Pa'tar?" Jim said tentatively.

"It's not true!" the child suddenly growled, and then the next second he had seized a chess set that was lying on the nearest table and flung it to the ground angrily. He seized the pieces and began to throw them against the wall.

The Jim slid off his chair to his knees and drew the small child into his arms. Pa'tar's fists, one of which still clutched a chess piece, reigned down on him in blind anger with surprising force for such a small child. Jim winced at the Vulcan strength but did not pull away. Soon enough the child stopped hitting him and stood, his arms by his sides, shaking. Jim could not see it but he knew that Pa'tar was crying. He lifted the young Vulcan up and carefully slid back into the comfortable chair, pulling Pa'tar onto his lap as he remembered his mother doing when he had been upset as a child.

He brought his hand up to stroke the glossy black hair, thinking how much it looked like Spock's as he did so. The child lowered his head to Jim's shoulder. Unlike a human child he did not hug back or cuddle for comfort, though Jim knew that it was crazy to expect that. It was extraordinary that the young Vulcan was permitting himself to be hugged at all.

Jim occupied himself by trying to determine which chess piece the child was holding by trying to find all the ones on the floor. He had just determined the piece could not be a black one – he could see them all – when he realized that the child had stopped crying and was now breathing evenly, his eyes closed.

Reluctant to wake him, Jim began trying to find all the white pieces as he stroked the young child's hair absentmindedly. Yet the chair was very comfortable and the steady sounds of the toddler breathing were relaxing, and soon he found his eyes drifting closed.

He woke to the sound of the door softly opening. The room had gone dim – Jim wondered how long he had slept. Pa'tar was still dozing as Jim squinted into the darkness. A moment later he was relieved to make out the tall figure of Spock in the darkness. The older Vulcan was looking down at him, unreadable. After a moment he reached out his hand to touch the side of Jim's face.

He felt the familiar nudge followed by a rush of affection that flowed through his veins, easing away the pain of the blossoming bruises from Pa'tar's punches and making him grin. Spock glanced between Jim and Pa'tar, gratitude melding with fondness now. Jim pressed a finger to his lips before standing very slowly, holding the child around his waist so that his head still rested on Jim's shoulder, he motioned Spock out the door again. The corridors were deserted as they walked in silent agreement to Jim's quarters.

Jim laid the child carefully down on his couch, grabbing a blanket and tucking it around him carefully. Spock watched him with his eyebrows slightly raised, his eyes twinkling in the dark. Jim felt his warm fingers slide into his own hand and he turned to face the Vulcan, stepping toward him so that their foreheads pressed together. Lacing his hand behind the Vulcan's back, Jim pulled that warm body into his own.

"I spoke to Nyota," Spock whispered eventually. Jim grinned and pulled the Vulcan around the partition. He broke their contact to pull the divider closed to that the sitting room and bedroom were separated. It unfolded like an accordion on rails, forming a solid wall between the rooms. Spock raised his eyebrows.

"What did she say?" Jim asked, talking slightly louder.

"She," Spock paused to consider. "I do not believe she understood my reasoning."

Jim grinned, "Sounds kind of like Bones."

"I do not believe he appreciated your innuendo on the bridge this morning," Spock said, a smile tugging at his lips.

Jim grinned, "Ah well, it was worth it."

"I do not think Mr. Sulu would agree," Spock said, definitely smiling slightly now. He made to open the partition again, lowering his voice. "I must retire Captain."

Jim turned and in one smooth motion grabbed the hand headed for the divider lock and threaded his fingers through it, sliding his body between Spock and the wall. "Stay?" he asked. "I could do with a good night's sleep."

"Sleep is not what you desire," Spock said shrewdly as Jim used his free hand to push the Vulcan backwards toward the bed, gently forcing him to sit down on its edge.

"Well, not right away," Jim admitted. He climbed onto the bed too so that he was straddling Spock's hips. Spock's face remained impassive, and Jim realized that he really must be regaining some of his control. He looked harder and saw the very corners of the Vulcan's mouth were pursed in the start of a smile. That was all the consent he needed.

He brought his hands into Spock's hair and slid his mouth down his neck, kissing, biting and sucking down to the edge of the blue uniform. His hips began to sway in circles, grinding down as his hands ran down Spock's chest to the hem of his shirt. Teasingly, Jim pulled it off.

"Jim," Spock sounded stern but without any real fight. "The child.."

"Can't hear us," Jim mumbled as his took full advantage of the exposed skin to attac Spock's nipple.

"While it is improbable that he will hear anything loudly enough to wake him," Spock began, but Jim cut him off.

"Shut up and there'll be no chance at all," Jim growled, spinning so that he was all but sitting in Spock's lap. Pulling off his own shirt, he braced himself against the edge of the bed and began to grind back into the Vulcan.

"Jim," Spock whispered again, but not in protest this time. A moment later Jim felt his hands slide and around and run across Jim's stomach, over his chest. He groaned softly. Spock's grip tightened for a moment and then his fingers slid lower. Jim could feel the inhuman heat from his hands through his pants as they ghosted over his waist and up and down his calves. Finally Spock slid his hands up the insides of Jim's slightly parted legs, ending by cupping the obvious bulge in the front of his pants.

Jim slipped off of Spock's lap and turned to push the Vulcan back onto the bed. Reaching over, he unceremoniously undid the Starfleet pants and yanked them off with his underwear. In a moment Jim had stepped out of his own pants and climbed back on top of Spock. The feeling of their naked bodies pressed together made them both gasp and then their lips finally met in a searing kiss.

His lips slick, Jim broke the kiss and trailed his mouth down the Vulcan's burning torso. He reached Spock's hip and placed a quick kiss there before raising his head slightly. Coyly, he looked up at the Vulcan, who had his arm thrown over his eyes and his mouth open in a silent pant. Slowly, Jim took him in his mouth, sliding his tongue over the base like a wave. Spock moaned. Jim slapped him lightly on the leg.

"Shhh!" he hissed, but it came more like _mpfh_, since his mouth was full.

Jim licked up and down Spock's shaft until it was slick, and then crawled up the bed so he was straddling the Vulcan's hips. Spock was looking at him now, mouthing his name without saying it aloud. Very slowly, Jim lowered himself on Spock, letting him slide in unhurriedly. Spock's hand unclenched from the bed sheets and found Jim's own erection. Soon they found a rhythm, slow at first but growing faster and faster. They came together, both biting down hard on their lips to keep from crying out. When it was done, Jim eased himself off and then flopped down beside the Vulcan. They lay there in each others arms for a long time.

Just as he was dozing off, Jim felt Spock slip out of bed. He heard the partition slide open and propped himself up to look at Spock. The other man was rummaging through Jim's dresser, and returned quickly with two pairs of pyjama pants. Jim sighed, understanding, and pulled them on as Spock climbed back onto the bed and did the same. Pa'tar was bound to wake up sometime and seeing as he'd never been to Jim's quarters, it would be best if he could find them and for that they had to be at least decently clothed. Jim sighed as Spock actually grabbed him around the waist from behind and pulled them flush together. Warmth all around him, with the feel of Spock's breath against his neck, Jim fell asleep as the Enterprise drifted toward the Vulcan's new home.


	11. Family

Hey all, thanks for your patience! I'm feeling a bit better, so here's a chapter – hope its alright!

I'm thinking this will be the second last chapter in this story, because I'm planning to stop it once they reach Earth – you'll have to just imagine their adventures after that. I might write some oneshot things related to this story if they pop into my head – a la "Pa'tar, the Later Years" or "Valik: 100 Ways to be a Smarmy Bastard…in Space!", or whatever. Maybe.

The point is, review while you can! Heehee.

On that note, a million "thank you"s to _lovefan81, wild eyed angel, xxbabyxox, foxy-comic-death, Ravenclaw Samurai, SnowKissYuki, IWantAnAlien, Whylite, RowanWolf, Secret Thought, GoddesofWrath _(times two, thank you!), _Tioman, Chicapanzy, naruke3176, Lady Squish, xKayla xKatastrophe, Silly, Bleudiablo, stillframe shattered, Mellyna, Yana5, hpets, Pheonixfire979 _(you'll see!), _MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Jord-El, underneaththesheets, Dilmn8_ and _mikkiness_ for their reviews – this chapter is for you!

Also, special shout outs to:

_blueberrypecan_: it's funny you say that because to me, while I can't see TOS!Spock doing that (though he actually does in the series), I can see 2009!Spock doing that for sure. He's a lot more hotheaded and (forgive me) cocky.

_T'Pinto_: if your name means what I think it means, I think its my new favorite. FYI

_heyy13_: yeah, TOS made up for a lack of hot sex by having tons of hilariously ridiculous fight scenes and a huge amount of excessive eyebrow wiggling. :D

_Hikaru_: *blink* I think that's the longest review I've ever got, ever. NOT that I'm complaining in anyway. NASA sounds like so much fun, I'm so jealous. :)

Massive preamble is massive. Here you go!

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_**Stardate 2258.124. **__At the request of the Federation, the _Enterprise_ is dispatched to Earth Station 8, located at the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. It is suspected that recent distress calls in the area are due to Romulan attacks, and the Enterprise is tasked with defending the colonies and space stations in the area. An encounter with Reman rebels leaves Jim and Spock the only ones on board, until they pick up some Andorian refugees and are able to rescue their cr__ew. Heavily damaged, the _Enterprise_ is ordered by Starfleet to deliver their passengers to the new Vulcan colony and return to Earth for repairs. _

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When Jim woke, the first thing he saw was a serious pair of scrutinizing eyes less than a foot from his face. Squinting, he brought Pa'tar's face into focus. The young Vulcan had his eyebrows drawn together and one finger pressed lightly to his lips in puzzlement. When Jim opened his eyes, the child took several steps back and flushed lightly at being caught staring.

Jim grinned and shifted so he was sitting up. Beside him in bed, Spock was woken up from the motion. Jim yawned and, rubbing his hand over his face sleepily, said, "Good morning Pa'tar."

"I apologize, Captain," Pa'tar said stiffly. "I did not intend to wake you."

"S'no problem," Jim said through another yawn. Beside him, he felt Spock lean over the edge of the bed and when he sat up, he was wearing his Starfleet uniform shirt.

"I was trying to assess the extent of damage I had inflicted upon you during my regrettable outburst yesterday evening," the boy said, in a very subdued voice.

Jim glanced down and saw that his chest was peppered with quarter-sized bruises. Surprised, he poked one gently – it stung, but just barely. He smiled as he looked up at the little Vulcan and assured him, "No harm done kid. It looks way worse than it feels."

Spock was also scanning his injuries, and Jim felt one of his hands slide against Jim's b back. Jim knew he was checking for any hidden distress on Jim's part, and tried to think peaceful thoughts. It was not hard, considering that he had Spock all but hugging him. It wasn't exactly a bad start to the morning.

"It was extremely inappropriate behavior Captain," the young Vulcan began, but Jim cut him off.

"I asked for it, I told you to show me how you felt," Jim pointed out. The child looked unconvinced, and Jim was reminded forcibly of a similar conversation he had had with Spock a fortnight ago. He smiled at the little boy, saying, "Please call me Jim."

"That would be illogical," the child pointed out. "You are a high ranking officer."

"Who wants you to call him Jim," Jim said easily. He glanced at Spock, whose eyebrow was quirked sarcastically. Jim sighed, and conceded, "Alright, you don't _have _to, but I would like it if you did when we are not around the rest of the crew."

Pa'tar looked at him seriously and said, "I will do my best to remember your request."

"Alrighty," Jim said, leaning back against Spock, whose arm was still surreptitiously around his back. Pa'tar's eyes flicked from him to Spock several times in rapid succession and he looked like he was burning with curiosity, but he did not speak.

"Tell us what is troubling you, Pa'tar," Spock's baritone rumbled slightly against Jim's back.

"It is not a necessary question for me to ask," the child mumbled. "I do not wish to be impertinent."

Spock nodded seriously, "Your resistance is admiral; it demonstrates that you are gaining increased control. Well done. However, I believe that Jim would agree with me that you should have no apprehension about expressing yourself in front of us. Indeed, as you know, I am exceptionally tolerant of emotional displays for a Vulcan, and Jim is one of the more expressive Human's that I have ever encountered."

Pa'tar considered them both for a second before something in him seemed to burst and he said, unusually quickly, "I continue to fail to see the logic in your association."

Jim's lips twitched. But he managed not to smile or laugh at the child, who he knew would interpret it as mockery. Instead, Spock spoke, his tone light and patient, "There is very little logic associated with it, you are correct."

Pa'tar blinked at him in surprise – this was clearly not an answer he had expected. Spock gave him a moment to digest it before continuing, "However, I expect that if you were to think about it, you might find some logical reasons for the continuance of such an association once it had begun?"

Pa'tar's little mouth puckered in thought for a moment before he said, "I assume it would create a level of trust and connection between you that would be useful in the effective controlling and delegation of duty aboard this ship?"

"Well reasoned," Spock said, as if the child had just solved a particularly interesting logic brainteaser.

"I see," Pa'tar said, looking mildly less confused.

Spock shifted behind Jim and got up. Jim was surprised to see that the pants he was wearing were actually his uniform pants, so that he was now fully dressed. Unfathomably, his clothes looked newly ironed, not newly slept in. Jim sighed in envy.

"Perhaps you will comprehend further when you have reached maturity," Spock said easily. "Now, I was planning to meditate this morning – would you be interested in joining me?"

Pa'tar nodded, only the slight tinge still lingering on his cheeks betraying his shyness. Spock nodded in return and, bidding Jim a farewell until later, left for his own quarters.

The younger Vulcan disappeared after him, and Jim began to change. He had just succeeded in locating and pulling on his uniform pants when there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Jim said.

It was Pa'tar again, who took only a few steps into the room before stopping. His eyes were locked to the floor. Jim looked up in concern, asking, "What's wrong Pa'tar?"

"I have a request," the child said quietly, after a long hesitant pause. "I would prefer if you did not relay the details of my emotional outburst to my Vulcan peers. I do not think they would react favourably."

Jim had to agree with that assessment. "Of course," he assured the child. "If you don't want them to know then your secret is safe with me."

Pa'tar gave a jerky nod, and then turned a retreated quickly back out the door. Chuckling, Jim grabbed a clean shirt, hauled it on and went to get breakfast.

A few hours later found Jim on the bridge with Pa'tar sitting beside him. He could feel Spock's eyes on him as he talked to the little Vulcan, discussing exactly how the _kal-toh _worked. Jim still didn't really get it, which seemed to amuse the watching Spock. Chekov had informed him that they would not reach Traod IX until early afternoon, which gave Jim some time to kill.

A very good source of time-wasting arrived when Scotty strode onto the bridge, holding a little red device in the palm of his hand and wearing an expression fitting to having just found out that the ships replicators had finally managed to produce haggis (a long-landing lament of Scotty's). He strode onto the bridge, stopping in front of Jim, who sat up immediately. "Should that thing be on the bridge, Scotty?" he asked at once, eyeing the Romulan mind control tool warily.

"Ah've disable tha transmittta Captain," Scotty assured him. "It's no more dangerous n now than a matchbox."

Jim relaxed again, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Spock do the same. "Did you find out anything interesting about it?"

"Interesting?" Scotty said, incredulously. "Aye, that I did do. Ah think Ah'd better relay what Ah found to tha Admiral tho, since it'll be darn useful in solving this Reman problem."

Jim looked at him in surprise, but said, "Uhura, if you could signal the Admiral?"

After a few moments of curious silence, Admiral Pike came onscreen. "Jim, updating so soon?" he said in surprise.

"Not me, Admiral," Jim said. "Mr. Scott thinks that he has discovered something important."

"It's this, sir," Scotty held up the device. "Mr. Spock discovered it an' gave it ta me to look over. It's a Romulan mind control device, and Ah've worked out that it works by stimulating areas of tha brain that increase compliance and trust in whoever it effects. O' course it only affects Romulans and Vulcans, as far as we know. Interesting thing is, tho, that it doesn't force you tha do anything, it makes it seem like you had tha idea yourself."

"Interesting," Pike said sincerely. "You will have to write up a report on your findings when you return to Earth, Mr. Scott. Was that all?"

"Not quite, sir," the engineer continued. "All that time we were captured we were trying to figure how so few Remans had fought off the whole Romulan army to get those ships and then convinced them not to hunt them out here. Ah suspect that this little device means that tha Remans didn't steal those Romulan ships after all."

Spock started beside Jim and he finished the thought, "They just convinced the Romulans to give them away."

"Exactly," Scotty agreed. "So Ah was thinking, instead of sending our men out at risk ta fight them, why not let tha Romulans know what happened and let them sort it out as they like. Might even improve our relationships with them a bit."

Pike considered this suggestion while Spock looked vaguely impressed at Scotty. "Right," the Admiral said at long last. "You might have something there Mr. Scott. I don't like the idea of letting the Romulans loose with your ship still flying lame in these Remans' supposed 'territory'."

"We should be arriwing into the orbit of Tarod IX in two hours, Admiral," Chekov supplied promptly.

"Alright," Pike said. "We'll hold off talks with the Romulans until then."

True to his word, Chekov announced their arrival at the new Vulcan colony just over two hours later. In the interim Scotty revealed that they appeared to be dangerously low on antimatter fuel, which was unexpected because the ship had been full when they had departed Earth. Apparently, Sahran was looking into it.

As soon as they had dropped out of warp, Jim gave Scotty the bridge and he and Spock headed down to the Vulcan's quarters to oversee the transfer of the colonists to the surface. Spock had informed Jim that there was a small welcoming gathering planned for them when they arrived, for their involvement in the rescue and rebuilding of the Vulcan race. This made Jim feel irrationally nervous.

Tavol was already there, shepherding the young Vulcans into orderly groups. Some of them, ones who had been off planet when Vulcan was attacked, had small suitcases or bags. Other clutched a change of clothes or, Jim noticed with amusement, a book or two. One of the girls Jim had seen the day he met Pa'tar was holding only her _kal-toh_.

Tavol nodded in greeting, giving him a warm greeting, "Good afternoon Captain, Mr. Spock."

"And you, Mr. Tavol," Jim reciprocated, and Spock nodded beside him.

"Are the preparations proceeding as planned?" Spock asked, his eyes scanning the room. Jim looked closer and saw that the children were arranged into three groups; one contained only boys, one only girls, and the other was a mixture.

"They are going as smoothly as can be hoped," Tavol said, sadly. "Deciding what to do with the children now that they have arrived here has been problematic."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked, still trying to sort out the order in the groups. He was sure there was one. "Where are they going to go?"

"There are a few that have surviving relatives," Tavol said, gesturing at the small mixed group. "However, the children were lucky just to have escaped with their parents from Vulcan and most families traveled on the shuttles together, so many children have no family to return to at this colony. They will be placed in orphanages temporarily, and then adopted into a Vulcan family. Unfortunately, many parents lost their children also during the destruction of our planet, so there are many parents willing to take them on."

"Oh," Jim said, scrutinizing the young Vulcans again. They all looked very proper, their backs straight and their little cloaks fastened at their necks tightly. Not one of them fidgeted or showed any sign of edginess, but Jim had gotten good at reading Vulcans by now and he could see the apprehension in their eyes. The ones headed to their families looked slightly less concerned, while the youngest in the orphanage groups betrayed the most distress. One girl, her face completely impassive, clutched her pyjamas so tightly that her knuckles were white. His eyes softened at the slight and he tried to look reassuring.

"They are prepared to be transported?" Spock was asking Tavol.

"They are," the V'tosh ka'tur agreed. Wordlessly he gestured to the nearest group, the girls, to follow him and they headed out to the transporter. Spock headed after him immediately to oversee the departure, while Jim hung back. He watched as each group filed past, until the group with families awaiting them had mostly gone past them. There, at the back with his eyes fixed firmly on the ground, was Pa'tar. Unlike most of the other children, he had nothing in his hands, which were in the pockets of his robes. The ever-silent adult Vulcans that had been caring for the children watched as the child stopped in front of Jim. With a slight nod from the Captain, the two continued past them and out after the rest of the children.

Pa'tar stood looking expressionlessly up at Jim until the man reached his arms down. Obediently, Pa'tar stretched up and Jim lifted him into his arms. Together, they set off after the rest of the departing passengers. "So, you have family waiting for you? That's nice," the Captain said after a few moments, trying to sound sincere.

"It is agreeable," Pa'tar said, half-heartedly. "They are distant cousins of my mother and I have never met them, but Mr. Tavol has persuaded them to give me board."

Jim frowned slightly at this – it didn't exactly seem like a happy family reunion. They walked in silence for a while longer, before Pa'tar spoke suddenly, "Captain –"

"A_ tut-tut_," Jim interrupted, a smile playing on his lips.

The young Vulcan craned his neck over Jim's shoulders to make sure the corridor around them was clear before whispering, "Jim?"

"Yes?" the Captain asked easily.

"I would like to inform you of my gratitude for your tutelage and indulgence in these past few days," the child said, very quickly.

Jim could not resist; he brought his free hand up to ruffle the young Vulcan's hair. Pa'tar flinched at first, but then relaxed. Remembering that touch caused emotional transference with Vulcans, particularly untrained ones, Jim tried to pour out as much happiness and pride as he could into the child. He dropped his hand as they reached the transporter room. From the looks of it, the first two groups of Vulcans had already gone. Only those headed to their families remained.

Jim went to set Pa'tar down with the rest, but to his extreme surprise he felt small arms loop around his neck and pull on his neck as the young Vulcan buried his head in Jim's neck. Jim felt a cool, hard shape digging into his nape – when the child pulled away again, Jim realized it was a white knight chess piece clutched tightly in the Vulcan's fist. He gave the child an extra squeeze before finally setting him down. Spock, who had come up beside them, bent to one knee. He gave him the customary salute at his own eye level, which the child returned. The sight was so adorably precocious that, thought the moment was sad, Jim nearly laughed.

Finally, Spock straightened. The moment of parting had come, and Jim's urge to laugh evaporated like a puddle in the desert. He raised his hand to mimic Spock, who had stood to salute the rest of the group. "Energize," the First Officer said quietly, and within moments they were gone.

Once the passengers were away, a very heavy-hearted Spock and Jim had a few moments to collect themselves as the Ensign at the transporter controls - Scotty was on the bridge – recharged the pad. They climbed onto the slightly glowing circles side by side, Jim biting his lip in distress.

"Pa'tar will be safe, Captain," Spock reminded him. "It is preferable for him to be raised with family if possibly, however distant. He is fortunate to have that opportunity."

Jim nodded, but was not at all convinced. In the few days he had been there, the young Vulcan had started to feel like a part of his crew – a part of the little family that he had made himself aboard the _Enterprise_.

"I see that the logic of these revalantions has not lowered your emotional distress," Spock said after a moment. "I must also confess to being reluctant of parting with Pa'tar. He is facing a challenge very similar to the one I faced as a child and I had wished to aid him in his experiences."

Jim smiled, "You two are very similar. You had a connection."

"Indeed," Spock agreed in a subdued voice.

"Ready when you are Captain," the Ensign interjected.

"Energize," Jim ordered, and he was overtaken by the momentary weightless, airless, indescribable feeling of being dematerialized and then his feet felt hard ground and he came back to himself. He was standing on a large, scrubby lawn with hot sun baking down on him. He knew immediately why this had been selected for Vulcan's replacement – it was unpleasantly hot. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled away from his stomach a few times, trying to tempt some cool air on his already boil skin. He looked around and saw Spock beside him, looking as cool as a meadow in February. In fact, the Vulcan had paused, his eyes closed and his face turned toward the giant yellow sun with a hint of a smile on his face. Jim scowled as sweat began to drip into his eyes.

Noticing his discomfort, Spock gestured over to a large tent, where Jim noticed for the first time that there were several elderly people waiting for them. They trotted over a dignified pace, yet even so by the time they reached the tent Jim's shirt was soaking through the back. He was extremely relieved and surprised, therefore, when a blast of cold air hit him as he entered the canopied area. They had air conditioned it, specifically for him he could only assume.

He surveyed the assembled Vulcan men and women with pleasure, recalling many of them as the council that Spock had risked his life to rescue. There was Sarek, Spock's father, and beside him was…

"Hey Spock," Jim said, seizing Spock by the arm forcefully and dragging him away from the assembled Elders toward a nearby refreshment table. "Look! They have fruit salad – your favorite right? Why don't you stay over here and just, enjoy it! Okay? Alrighty!"

Jim abandoned a shocked looking Spock at the table and stalked directly over to the Elders, accosting the one beside Sarek and all but dragging him into a corner. "What are you doing here?" he hissed at the man. "Do you _want_ the universe to and or something?"

Spock Prime had exchanged his futuristic robes for traditional Elder garb, but he was unmistakable. The other Elders were looking scandalized as Spock approached them, looking apologetic. He seemed to be explaining something. Jim returned his attention to the Vulcan he had cornered, who to his chagrin was actually smiling. "Why should my presence at this gathering have such far reaching consequences?" the old man mused, his eyes sparkling in a way Jim recognized.

"You know exactly how," Jim said, desperately. "Did you thin I wouldn't bring him?"

"It would be highly illogical to conclude such a thing," a calm voice said from just behind him. "I find it highly improbable, therefore, that an Elder would make such an error."

"Ah! Hey Spock!" Jim said, grinning manically. "This is, um, an old friend of mine, um, Captain Tar –"

"I am aware of the Ambassador's true identity, Jim," Spock said easily, the corners of his eyes crinkled in hidden laughter. "It was on his advice that I returned to Starfleet after we returned for the mission to rescue Admiral Pike."

There was a long pause, and then Jim rubbed his head with his hand and groaned, "What? Isn't that, I don't know, not allowed?"

"Who is to disallow it?" Spock Prime said easily. "It is cheating, in a fashion, however."

Both Spock's mouths twitched as Jim looked at them accusatorily, "You tricked me!"

"Indeed," Spock agreed.

"It was necessary, old friend," Spock Prime amended.

Jim gaped at them for a second, then turned his back and stalked with as much dignity as he had left to greet or introduce himself to the rest of assembled group.

It was not until three quarters of an hour later that the Ambassador managed to pull Jim aside again.

"Jim," he said in his aged, reedy voice. "I want to thank you."

"Not apologize?" Jim said, but his tone was more teasing now than angry.

"No, I do not wish to apologize," the Vulcan replied seriously. "I do not feel that, overall, I have done you a disservice. I will tell you what I told my younger self many months ago: I exploited your good intentions only to make sure that you and he became friends, as you were meant to be. Of all the things I have denied the world be my own failure with Nero, I felt sure I could save at least that. Together, you will do great things – you have _already_ done great things – and perhaps by ensuring your partnership I hoped to erase some of my debt to the world."

It was hard to argue with that, so Jim just twirled the empty cup he was holding in embarrassment for a moment. Finally, he said, "Why did you want to thank me?"

"Why, for that very reason, old friend," Spock said, looking content. "From what I have heard from my counterpart, you have acted in a noble and supportive way towards him in his time of need. It is the way I would have expected your own counterpart to have behaved, and it reaffirms my feeling that, even in this altered world you were meant to be friends."

Jim hesitated, wavered for a bit, before asking, "Were you and your Jim ever…um, more than friends?"

Spock's eyebrows went up in amusement. "We were always more than friends, though on different levels throughout the years. He was my lifelong partner, my _thy'la._ Does that answer your question?"

"I think so," Jim mused. "What does _thy'la _mean?"

Spock Prime's mouth turned up in a small smile, and he said, "It has many meanings in English, though it is something like a soulmate. It means a friend, a brother, and a lover."

Jim grinned, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Spock Prime's eyes twinkled as Scotty's voice crackled over the transmitter. "Captain, if you're ready, I'll beam you back up. We've got to be on our way if we want to get to Andoria and then Earth without refueling if we've got to take the long way around those Remans."

Jim turned to find Spock, but could not see him. He asked the Ambassador if he had seen him, but it was Tavol, coming up alongside Jim, that answered. "He has gone to sort out a family matter that just came to his attention," the Vulcan replied.

"I've only ever seen him so angry once or twice before as a child," mused a nearby Elder. She looked slightly disapproving, though unwilling to speak ill of Spock, who had saved all their lives not to long ago. "Sarek went after him, so hopefully the matter will be resolved with some decorum."

Jim glanced around and realized that Sarek was gone to. Worry and anxiety gripped him as he wondered what it could have been that had called Spock away. He bid a quite but fond farewell to the assembled Vulcans, even gaining a surprise hug from Tavol that made the Elders, excepting Spock, slightly wary looking. "Alright Scotty, beam me up," he said finally.

The first thing that he noticed when he rematerialized on the pad was that Scotty was operating it. "Spock's back aboard?" Jim guessed, nodded at the engineer.

"Aye, Captain, that he is," Scotty confirmed. Jim made to head immediately for the bridge, but the engineer called after him, "Captain, Mr. Sahran wished that you'd come ta see him – he's got some cockamamie scheme to get our fuel ta stretch long enough ta get us around those Remans without stopping to refuel. Seems to thin it would be faster than stopping at one of tha stations to refuel. Th'lads probably right – normally we'd have ample fuel so I suspect we've got a leak. No point in wastin good antimatter if we can avoid it."

It took everything Jim had to turn towards engineering and push Spock out of his mind, but he was the Captain and so he managed it. The Andorian was antennae-twirling pleased when Jim arrived and eagerly showed him his plans to get them home. Jim was hardly listening as he briskly checked through the basics of the math and made sure that they would indeed have enough fuel. Sahran's plan involved feeding the dilithium chamber coils deuterium in a different ratio or something that Jim had to tae his word for that it would work.

At long last he was free to head up to the bridge. He walked quickly, but tried to look unhurried to the crew member he passed in the hall. To his extreme frustration, Spock was not on the bridge. He nearly turned and simply walked away again, but Sulu and Chekov had updates on their course and Uhura had received some fairly important update from Starfleet in the short time he ha been gone.

"The Romulans have been informed of the nature of the Reman's deception," he said formally. "The Admiral did not tell them we have obtained one of the devices in case they took exception to that and decided to attack us. From the transmissions I've been picking up, the _Lexington_ and the _Excalibur_ have both been ordered out of the area, and the Romulans have located their stolen ships and are going to…retrieve them."

She looked distasteful as she said it, and Jim expected that the Romulan transmissions had been a lot more brutal than Uhura's edited version. "Great," Jim said, still slightly distracted as he settled in his chair. "Keep me updated."

"Aye aye, Captain," she said coolly.

"Alright, Chekov, have you got the headings from Sahran?" Jim said, turning to the young navigator. Chekov nodded. "Good, let's get out of here Sulu."

"Yes sir," the pilot replied immediately, and Jim felt the thrusters gearing up.

"Scotty reckons we've got a fuel leak or damage somewhere, so try to save as much power as you can," Jim said, settling back against his chair as the ship jumped to warp. His arm knocked something to the floor as he stretched out - it was Pa'tar's datapad. Jim lifted it back onto the arm of the chair a little dejectedly.

Jim fidgeted throughout his whole shift, Spock's inexplicable absence weighing on his mind. Crazy thoughts ran through his head about what this "family matter" could be – maybe Spock had decided to take a Vulcan wife after all? Maybe Sare had forced him to? As the evening progressed he worked himself into such a lather that had Scotty not told Jim that Spock was on board, he doubted he'd have bee able to sit there all shift at all. As it was, as soon as the relief shift came to take over for the evening, Jim fairly jumped out of his chair and nearly knocked Sulu over as he exited the bridge.

Spock was not in his quarters, so Jim decided to check his own. He pelted though the door to find the tall figure of Spock sitting at his desk, filling out what looked like an unreasonably massive pile of paperwork. He looked up as Jim entered. Relief flooded Jim for a moment, and then he got upset. "Where have you _been_?" he accused, advancing slightly on the Vulcan. "Storming away from that reception and then ditching your shift."

"I apologize Jim," Spock said immediately. He opened his mouth to continue but Jim interrupted.

"What was so important to go rushing away and then not even bother to check in with me?"

"Jim, please keep your voice down –"

"Why don't you just answer me?" Jim said, with a little of his paranoia slipping through into his voice.

"_Jim_," Spock tried to quiet him, but it was too late. There was a soft thud and a quick patter of footsteps from the area of the bed, and the next moment Pa'tar had peered around the partition. Jim's mouth dropped a moment before his heart laughed, and he almost laughed in relief and happiness. The young Vulcan looked up him in a shy but pleased way. Jim scooped him up and hugged him quickly before setting him down on the desk.

"This is what you were doing?" Jim asked, his tone entirely different. He was surprised, stunned at Spock's actions, if not ludicrously pleased. He wondered what could have made him change his mind.

As if sensing his question, Spock reached out a hand to touch Jim's face. His expression was unexpectedly dark. When their minds connected, Jim was surprised when Spock completed the meld fully. After a few moments of disorientation, as he had not expected it, Jim was watching a conversation between Spock and Tavol at the reception.

"_Mr. Spock," Tavol had approached Spock. "I require your opinion on an urgent matter."_

Jim could feel Spock's surprise in the memory, but he heard the half-Vulcan's voice reply_, "Of course Mr. Tavol." _

"_It concerns Master Pa'tar," Tavol said. _Jim felt Spock's anxiety spike_. "There as been an incident – I believe one of the older boys provoked him."_

"_Has he been physically injured?" Spock demanded. _

"_He is unhurt in that regard," Tavol reassured him. "However, his intended relatives were witness to the incident and are now refusing to take him. They are of the opinion, which you know I do not share, that he has been somehow damaged or handicapped and they do not wish to accommodate such a disadvantage."_

Jim could feel the anger, bordering on rage, flare unexpectedly up in Spock._ "Where will he go then?"_

'_That is the problem," Tavol said. _Jim suddenly realized that the other Vulcan's voice was also hard with anger, though it was slightly less obvious._ "The orphanage does not feel equipped to accommodate him either."_

_Spock's fists were curled. "Nobody will take him in?"_

_Tavol simply shook his head. Spock's rage was full-fledged now. "Do they not understand that in the current situation every Vulcan is a treasure? Do they have no sense of loyalty to their race?"_

_Tavol simply hook his head sadly again. Spock seemed to teeter on the brink of decision for a moment and then he said definitively. "I will take him. I am quite sure that Captain will not object to his presence on board."_

"_I must confess I had hoped you would say that," Tavol said. "You will need to hurry, he is scheduled to be picked up by the psychiatric doctors from the colony medical facility very soon."_

Spock actually seemed speechless at this. Jim could not tell whether the fury burning through him was Spock's or his own but it didn't really matter. Spock broke the meld with the parting image of him charging across the lawn. For a moment, the two men stared at each other, both sweating slightly, and then they turned as one to look at the young Vulcan sitting between them. Jim saw that he was still toying with the chess piece and staring up at the two of them.

Jim took a deep breath. "Well, Master Tavol, it seems you will be staying with us for an extended period, so I feel I should welcome you again to the Enterprise."

"Thank you…Jim," the child said very shyly. Hs face was neutral but Jim could see the happiness in his eyes.

"I assume you'll consent to be my assistant for however long you stay with us?" Jim asked.

"It would be an honour," the child said earnestly.

"Great, I'll see you on the bridge tomorrow morning then." Jim said in an authoritative voice. Then, he let his tone soften and adopted an almost fatherly demeanor as he scooped the child off the desk and set him on the floor, saying, "Which means you had best get to sleep mister."

"Indeed," Spock agreed. "I have set up a temporary space for you in my quarters. I will join you in a few minutes."

"Yes, f-Father," the child stuttered and, with a last lingering look at the pair of them, disappeared out the doors.

"_Father_?" Jim asked as soon as he was sure that Pa'tar was gone.

"They would only allow me to take him if I assumed guardianship," Spock explained as if it were perfectly ordinary to adopt children on the drop of a dime. "He has told me that his own Father was killed in combat when he was a young infant and so he feels it would not be disrespectful to confer the title upon me, though I did not insist he did so. I trust you do not object?"

Jim slipped his hand into the Vulcan's, grinning wickedly as he pressed his forehead to Spock's. "You know I don't."

He tilted his head slightly a stole a lingering kiss from Spock's lips, his fingers tips tracing lazily against the hotter palm. Spock's hand came up to hold his arm and for a few long moments they reveled in the contact at the end of an eventful and emotionally trying day. Finally Spock pulled away.

"I apologize Jim, but I must complete these forms before I retire, and Pa'tar is waiting for me," he said as he sat down again.

"No problem," Jim said, his brain a little mushy like it normally was after he kissed the Vulcan. "I'm going to grab a snack."

Jim met Scotty and Bones having a nightcap in the recreation room. "You're in a good mood," Bones observed immediately.

"Spock adopted Pa'tar," Jim could not contain his pleasure.

"Did'ee?" Scotty slurred, and it was apparent he had been indulging a bit.

"No _way_," Bones countered more lucidly.

"Yeah," Jim said, replicating himself a piece of chocolate cake and sitting down at the bar too. He waved a forkful of food at Bones as he said gleefully, "That kid's going to be around a long while. You know Bones, Spock might need a babysitter..."

"Isn't that what you are for?" Bones said pointedly, downing his glass.

"As Captain?" Jim asked innocently. His eyes twinkled as Bones rolled his eyes. "Hardly Bones, I've got a ship to run here."

"Aye, that Vulcan, he's a right good kid," Scotty said suddenly, looking at Bones sideways as if verifying that what he had said made sense. Both commanding officers had to bite back grins.

They chatted amicably as Jim finished his cake. Bones was unable to wrap his head around the idea of Spock as a "daddy" – which was admittedly pretty strange. Jim had a feeling Spock would be the strict, instructional but caring kind of parent, and inwardly he decided that he would just have to fill the "daddy" role and spoil the kid rotten himself.

Finishing his cake, Jim left the two men deep in discussion over their drink and headed back to his quarters. Spock had gone, but sitting on his desk was a neat stack of paper topped by a single, tiny white knight piece. Smiling to himself, Jim pulled off his uniform and slipped into bed.


	12. Together

Hey guys!

So I had an internet malfunction – like a wardrobe malfunction but less sexy – involving my cable guy and several hour-long calls to Bell "Canada" in Mumbai. But I'm back, victory is mine! Thanks for your patience – I was really chuffed that even though it's been forever and a day, there was a steady stream of people reading. :)

As an apology, I give you this (take out the spaces and be patient it takes a second to load): http:// kirkinlovewithspock . ytmnd . com/

Thanks to _mildetryth, maggie2mw, Jord-El, KapaTea, naruke3176, neenabluegirl, tazzy186, SnowKissYuki, Hatori Soma, XtinaW, foxy-comic-death, Ravenclaw Samurai, Fitful Fantasy, xxbabyxox, GoddesOfWrath, signofthetimes, SecretThought, Le The Flames Begin My Heart, Mezzer 5.2, Bleudiablo, circa divide, Reona, Mellyna, Yana5, Ai Sarang, wild eyed angel, Mari, MirrorFlower and DarkWind, xKayla xKatastrophe_, and _Lady Squish_ for reviewing last chapter. Some other replies:

_Blueberrypecan_: I'd be a pretty big hypocrite if I asked for your reviews and then only replied to the ones that were positive (see below, haha). Really glad you tuck with it anyway!

_EternalYaoiFanGurl4Life_: thank you for that massive review – getting even one from each of my readers would be great (if not completely unmanageable hahaha) so no worried on the last then chapters! Glad you are enjoying it.

_Yume No Zencho_ and _Dream's Abyss_: I totally agree, though possibly what I really need to do is stop writing these things at 4AM. ;)

_Hikaru_: Oh, I'll keep writing, don't worry! Thank you so much for all your great reviews, they really were a treat to read. :)

_wmonica_: AAAH, did I miss you out? I must not have seen your review last chapter? Sorry! I do care about you, of course. :)

_lovefan81_: Oh you know I will – as if I could resist an excuse to write more. Look for stuff between then and now too.

_T'Pinto_: rofl, yes that's what I thought it was – fantastic! As for the Dad thing – that might come later!

_Gwynhefar_: Ok, I'm just really curious how you would pronounce your name. ;)

To answer the common question, yes, I'm going to write something about Pa'tar soonish just for you guys. It should be fun. Put me on alerts if you want to know when I do, or just keep your eye on the ST09 page. :)

Since this is the last chapter, I wanted to thank EVERYONE who has replied to any of the chapters, either by review or message. Thank you to the nearly 1500 of you who read each chapter and to the average of 30 of you who take the time to review them. Thank you to the 14 of you who added this story to their C2s, the over 133 of you who favorited it and the many hundreds of you who have it on alerts. You have really made my last two months, through exams and work and all sorts of stuff, just a bit brighter. Thanks.

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_**Stardate 2258.125. **__The Enterprise returns home to be repaired after a violent conflict with Reman rebels in the Romulan Neutral Zone, traveling at Warp 4. First, they have to stop at Andoria. _

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When Jim entered the mess hall the next morning it was to find Bones and Scotty both sitting at a table in the corner, looking distinctly worse for wear. Replicating himself a plate of bacon and eggs, Jim went over to join them. A dusting of dark fuzzy beard decorated Bone's usually smooth cheeks as he sipped coffee halfheartedly and the bags under Scotty's eyes closely matched the colour of the grapes he was eating.

"Rough morning, boys?" Jim said, chomping onto a piece of bacon.

Bones merely looked at him witheringly, while Scotty snuck a piece of bacon off his plate.

"Perhaps I should arrange for Mr. Sahran to oversee the engineering room today, Mr. Scott?" Spock had come up behind them and was sitting down to Jim's left. He was alone. At Jim's questioning look, Spock added as an aside, "Pa'tar requested to continue his game of _kal-toh_, as he did not require nourishment at this time."

"Ah'm fine," Scotty assured the First Officer. "Just a little low on rest."

"If you are experiencing any recurrent insomnia I must insist –"

"Don't get your knickers in a knot Spock, it was just a one night thing," Scotty said, now eying Jim's eggs with interest. Jim waited for him to elaborate, but he did not. In fact, he looked suspiciously shifty. Bones wouldn't meet Jim's eyes either.

"What were you two up to last night?" he asked suspiciously.

Neither man answered. Beside him, Spock's eyebrow quirked in interest and he looked at Jim, mischief in his eyes. Blithely, he commented to Jim, "Given their secretiveness and the fact that they apparently spent the evening in each other's company, were they in higher spirits I would have postulated they had had a romantic encounter."

Jim burst out laughing as Bones choked and spluttered. Scotty looked at Spock, apparently more surprised at the teasing than anything. "No offense ta you Dr. McCoy, but Ah prefer my screws without nuts, as the saying goes."

This, if anything, made Bones look slightly more horrified, but he managed a strangled, "None taken."

"Right," Scotty said, getting up slowly. "If you'll excuse me Ah think ah'll go get something for me head before Ah start my shift."

"Honestly, just because you two are bed hopping every night," Bones muttered when Scotty had gone, draining the last of his cup.

"You still have not accounted for your whereabouts last night," Spock pointed out, but Bones had stood up too. Hi mouth twtiched.

"You'll see soon enough," he said, then turned and grumbled his way out the door. Jim immediately checked his chair for superglue and his back for a _Kick Me_ sign. Spock watched in amusement as he spent the rest of breakfast in high agitation, worried about what his friends might have been setting up last night.

They made their way to the bridge as the shifts began to change over, arriving just in time to run into Sulu and Chekov, coming from a rec room nearby. They were flushed and slightly sweaty – Jim looked at them incredulously. Surely not.

"Fencing," Sulu explained hurriedly. "I'm teaching Pavel."

"Uh…huh…" Jim was slightly alarmed at the effect of one night without Spock on his libido – he was seeing sex everywhere. Maybe something was wrong with him. A wicked grin spread across his face at the idea of showing up at sickbay to ask Bones about it, but he wiped it off his face quickly as Sulu looked a bit creeped out.

It turned out that he need not have worried about Scotty and Bones. As they entered the bridge, Jim saw that Uhura was already in her seat. For the first time that he could remember, when he walked in she looked up and smiled at him. For a moment he was sure that it must be because he was with Spock, but one look around the bridge told him the source of her good mood.

Beside the Captain's chair, fashioned haphazardly but oddly skillfully from what looked like broken sections of engineering consoles and metal pipes, was a new addition to the bridge. It was a chair, nearly as tall as the Jim's but only about half as big, with a step half a foot off the ground in front of it. Jim knew immediately who it was for, as Pa'tar's datapad was tucked into a pouch hanging off one of the arms. He grinned so widely it hurt as he turned to look at Spock, whose eyes had crinkled dramatically in pleasure.

"Remind me to thank Bones and Scotty later," Jim said, taking his seat and leaning over to examine the new addition more carefully.

It was with increasing anticipation that Jim awaited Pa'tar's arrival on the bridge. Hee crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times as he fidgeted that Chekov had started to stare at him. Finally, just and Jim was starting to get hungry for lunch, the doors to the bridge slid open.

Pa'tar trotted in, looking calm and impassive as always. His mask slipped and his steps faltered as every eye on the bridge turned to look at him, including Jim's eager ones. As soon as the child's eyes caught Jim's smiling face he composed himself and walked quickly to the Captain's chair. Moments later his eyes fell on the little chair beside Jim's and the Captain watched in supreme satisfaction as the little eyes widened slightly. The young Vulcan looked questioningly at Jim, his eyebrows raised, and Jim nodded. Carefully, the child took his seat, pulling out his datapad as he went.

Spock had walked up behind them and greeted Pa'tar formally but Jim could hear the affection in his voice. As he walked past the Captain, the Vulcan brushed his knuckles against the back of Jim's neck in a way that everyone on the bridge was, Jim knew, meant to think was accidental. Jim knew better as a jolt of happiness and content far stronger than he was used to jump into his stomach and knew the emotion had come from Spock. His grin widened as he saw Uhura's eyes narrow.

Jim had never traveled at Warp 4 for any distance before and so he had never realized until then how spectacular it could be. Usually the stars and galaxies streaked past as pinpricks of light, homogeneous and fleeting. Now they were going so slowly that could see the star systems as they passed. Suns and supernovas floated past their windows, each gloriously unique. Sometimes the area around these bodies was dotted with tiny dark planets or, occasionally, the odd spectacular gas giant. Far off in the distance swirled the misty arms of distant galaxies. The whole experience was punctuated by a drifting comets and belts of asteroids. Once or twice they caught sight of other craft as they streaked past at a reckless pace, and when they passed the Earth Stations they could see their lights twinkling in the dark space. Even Bones was enthralled, and Jim took particular pleasure in watching the subtle shifts in expression on Pa'tar's face each time they encountered some new, amazing sight.

Traveling at Warp 4 did have its downsides, however. It took them well over a fortnight to reach Andoria. Spock, of course, took the opportunity too check all the startcharts along their path by visual confirmation, assisted practically enthusiastically by Pa'tar. Jim was barely able to tear himself away from the sight, which was so amusing that Bones and Scotty, who had both taken a shine to the child too, had began to invent wild excuses to come up to the bridge and watch Spock teach a three-year-old basic telemetry.

As such, it so happened that most of Jim's high ranking officers were on the bridge as they approached the icy blue planet. Sahran was there, having followed Scotty up, and his antennae spun happily as they neared the icy planet's orbit.

Their stay at Andoria was slightly longer than Jim had anticipated because, as with the Vulcans, the Andorians seemed to find it necessary for him to attend a ceremony. In this case, it was the formal funeral of the two Andorians who were so briefly part of his crew and which most of his friends owed their lives. Jim was happy, even honoured, to be asked to attend, but several hours into the long ritual he found himself thinking longingly of his quarters and the two Vulcans undoubtedly waiting for him there.

He was relatively unsurprised but gratified nonetheless when Sahran and a few of his men requested to continue on with them to Earth, with the aim of enrolling in Starfleet. Jim planned to give them all glowing recommendations which, he was somewhat offput to realize, might actually be taken seriously now that he was developing a reputation as a diplomat and saver races.

It was with relief and extreme fondness that he found Pa'tar and Spock sitting in his quarters when he returned, both intent in a game of chess on his chess set. Relaxing, stretching out on the couch by Spock, Jim contented himself with watching the game. After a day of not talking it was not hard to sit silently and just observe the Vulcans, especially as he reached over to lay his hand on Spock's and the Vulcan's own relaxation and supreme calm washed over him.

It was only Jim's own extensive knowledge of game that made him notice after a while that Spock was making deliberate mistakes. They were subtle slip-ups, like picking the second best move instead of the best, and they were well spaced, but Jim realized that they predictably gave Pa'tar an advantage to exploit each time. Spock was letting the child win.

Amusement flared though him and Spock's head turned, sensing the change. The Vulcan quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. "Nice move," Jim said with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Thank you," Spock said simply, his own mouth twitching as he turned back to the game. Inevitably Pa'tar won the game, looking as elated by the feat as a Vulcan child could ever look. In fact, he got so worked up that Spock suggested that they retire to their room to meditate before they attempted to sleep.

After they left, Jim was feeling distinctly lonely and so decided that he would go visit Bones before turning in himself. He had not yet managed to properly thank the man for what he had done for Pa'tar. He had barely made it halfway to the lift, however, when he felt himself being yanked bodily into a crew quarters.

It was Uhura, who looked both livid and deeply concerned, an expression that cause her normally beautiful face to slightly resemble a cross between an owl and somebody who had just been forced to eat an entire unsweetened lemon.

Jim rubbed his arm where she had seized him gingerly, saying ruefully "Don't tell me you've reconsidered my offer _now_, because I'm taken."

"I've noticed," she replied, a little scathingly. "Just what do you think you are playing at anyway!?"

Her dark eyes blazed. He looked at her in confusion. "Playing what?"

"_Spock_," she huffed. "Do you know that Vulcans are basically monogamous for life? They only ever have one partner."

"What makes you think that –" Jim began.

"Oh _come on,_" she sighed impatiently. "Anybody who knows Spock would know. Besides, he hasn't exactly been great at hiding what he's thinking since he was exposed."

Jim just barely resisted snickering at the word _exposed_ because a serious question had crossed his mind. "Do you think other people know?"

"See, that's my point!" she exclaimed. "You shouldn't care; you have to be _committed_ with a Vulcan!"

"He's half-Human," Jim pointed out. "Plus I only care because I don't know how people would react, in terms of my Captaincy. There's still a lot of prude and bigots out there."

"I think Dr. McCoy knows, because I'm sure you told him. Otherwise, I think Checkov might have guessed, I caught him giving you two odd looks. Nobody could fail to see how much you both like that child," Uhura was giving him a strange look. She paused for a while before saying, "Spock may be half-Human but his new little addition is not."

"I love Pa'tar," Jim said, frowning at her. "Just like I love Spock."

Uhura laughed derisively, "Of _course_ you do."

Taken aback, Jim replied simply, "I _do_."

"Not like I did," she muttered. Jim gaped at her.

"You're saying that you could be with him forever, Kirk?" she continued scathingly. "For the _rest of your lives_? Because that's what a Vulcan means by commitment, which is the closest they get to love."

Jim thought about the last few weeks, about the unexpectedness of it all and the completely illogical course of events. The playboy part of him told him to run for the hills right them. But there was a larger, louder part of himself that he hadn't really paid attention to before that kept him standing where he was, wondering how he would feel _without_ Spock. Somehow the little family he had somehow inherited in the span of a few weeks already seemed more important than any fling he'd had or even the idea of all the girls he'd never get to date.

"Yes," he said, surprisingly firmly. Uhura looked deeply unconvinced.

"You'll say anything for sex, won't you?" she scoffed.

"Hey, watch it!" Jim said, his temper finally rising out of his control. "I'm your Captain!"

They glared at each other for a long moment, during which Jim tried to calm down. "That's not what this is about," he managed finally.

"Right," she said, unbelieving.

He fixed his eyes on her steadily. "It's not," he said again. He sighed. "It was, at first. It's not now."

She stared back at him for a moment, then her face sort of sagged and the fight seemed to go out of her. She looked almost sad.

There was a soft scuffle of movement from the door and Jim turned to see Pa'tar peeking out from behind the slightly open door. Jim glanced at the clock; it was well past midnight. "Pa'tar," he said, turning a beckoning the child over. "Is everything alright? Where's Spock?"

"My Father," Pa'tar began, and Jim saw Uhura's eyes shoot into her hair. "Is sleeping. I overheard your conversation from my quarters. I recognized your speech pattern and observed that the dialogue was unusually hostile, so I came to investigate."

Jim scooped the child up and sent Uhura a slightly reproachful look – she had, after all, been the one yelling. "Thanks for worrying kid," Jim said, ruffling the child's hair. Uhura looked shocked at the touch and even more surprised when Pa'tar actually looked pleased instead of jumping away. He tured back to her, saying, "If you don't mind I'm going to take him back to bed, and I'd suggest you do the same for yourself."

Uhura nodded, looking slightly stung as Jim turned back to Pa'tar. As Jim walked into the brighter light of the corridor, he noticed the tension in the child's brow. Changing course, he headed for the nearest rec room.

"Forgive me Captain," the child said, then quickly corrected, "Jim. If I am not mistaken, we are not going the correct direction."

"Nope," Jim agreed, but did not elaborate. Once in the rec room, he replicated himself two bowls of ice cream and snatched up the boxed chess set from the table, but he did not stop there. Instead, he headed for the bridge, where he sent everyone there for an hour break, wanting the room to himself.

Pa'tar waited patiently until Jim had set him down in his new chair with a bowl of ice cream and taken his own seat before asking, "Why are we not returning to our respective sleeping quarters?"

"I wanted to know what is bothering you," Jim said simply, taking a spoonful of ice cream. "Was it something you just heard? I don't know how long you were listening."

Pa'tar gave him a long look. "It was not something from your recent conversation so much as that your recent conversation brought to light an unease of mine."

As used to it as he was, Jim's lips twitched at this especially formal sentence. Pa'tar was, he realized, embarrassed. Just like Spock, he got extra formal because of it. "There's stuff in that conversation you are too young to understand, I hope," Jim said sincerely. "Some other stuff you might not comprehend because you are Vulcan."

"Your situation with my new father is strange," the child said quickly. "I must admit that, despite what you have said to me about it, I still do not understand."

"You might never understand," Jim said softly, licking his spoon. "Our relationship is far more Human than Vulcan."

Pa'tar nodded. He paused, hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "What you told Ms. Uhura was the truth?"

"About committing to Spock?" Jim guessed correctly. "Yes. Is that alright?"

"Yes," the child said, more enthusiastically than before. "I would find that an agreeable arrangement. However…"

Jim's brow furled. Pa'tar trailed off and, apparently more out of nerves than anything, he took a spoonful of ice cream. His eyes went wide and he stared, first at Jim then at the bowl. Despite himself, Jim grinned. "It's good isn't it?" he asked.

The child nodded and took another spoonful before asking, "May I inquire what it is?"

"It's ice cream, one of my favorites," Jim smiled and then he waited for a moment before asking again, "What's bothering you Pa'tar?"

Again there was a nervous pause before the child admitted, "I am curious how you will procreate, if you entered a union with my father. Unless I am unaware of a certain aspect of Human biology…"

Jim choked, more than a little surprised that this little child knew about _anything_ of that aspect of Human biology. "We won't," he said simply.

"Is it not part of Human nature to desire to raise children?" Pa'tar asked, troubled.

Jim's lips twitched. "Well, we'd have you, wouldn't we?"

Pa'tar looked if anything more concerned, to Jim's surprise and worry. "I do not think I am a suitable replacement child for a Human parent," the young Vulcan said despairingly. This had obviously been worried about this before. "I have been researching Human interaction to best optimize my relations with you and I do not think I can meet your emotional needs."

Jim laughed. "You can kiddo," he ruffled the child's hair again. "Did it ever occur to you that if I could deal with Spock as a partner I could would be happy with a Vulcan for a son?"

Pa'tar looked surprised at the word, but after a moment he nodded, looking reassured. When he didn't reply, Jim asked, "Are you tired?"

"No," Pa'tar said quietly. "I do not require as much rest as you do."

"Want to play a game of chess? It'll help us both relax before bed."

"Like meditation" Pa'tar observed.

"Yeah, just like it," Jim agreed, setting up the board.

They played for nearly forty minutes, pausing occasionally to admire the bright planets and star systems still gliding silently past them. Finally Jim decided it was time for bed as his crew started to come back from their break. Pa'tar was slipping lower and lower in his makeshift seat, the blazing reds and blues of a passing gas giant reflecting off his shiny black hair as his head nodded and his chin fell against his chest.

"Bedtime," Jim said decisively. He stood up and plucked the child from his chair. Pa'tar folded easily against his chest, his little arms looping semi-consciously over Jim's shoulders. It was not a hug, but it was as close as Jim thought he'd ever get. In moments Pa'tar was asleep.

It took him a very short time to get to Spock's quarters. He went to lay the young Vulcan on his little bed that Spock had had brought into his quarters, but to his intense surprise as he went to release him, the child's fingers closed tightly in his shirt. He tried without success to pry open that tiny Vulcan death grip for a moment before chuckling in amusement. He hoisted the child up again and walked over to Spock's bed, where the half-Vulcan was lying very still. Jim climbed onto the bed and slipped half under the covers, disturbing Spock enough that he cracked open an eye.

Jim grinned at him through the darkness and gently shook Pa'tar's arm so that his shirt was pulled hither and thither in the vice-like hand as an explanation. He thought he saw amusement in the older Vulcan's eyes, even in the dark. Carefully he slid so that he lay with his head in the crook of Spock's shoulder, Pa'tar lying half on them and half between them. The Vulcan shifted obligingly and Uhura and Pa'tar's words ran though Jim's mind. This truly was an odd little family, but against all odds it did work. The extreme warmth in the bed coming from the two aliens smoothed his aching muscles and the purring heartbeats of both of his companions lulled him to sleep.

So it was that Jim woke the next morning in Spock's quarters instead of his own, and it was from there that he got his first glimpse of Pluto as it streaked past. They were nearly there now. Almost home.

He shifted slightly and felt a small body stir beside him. Cracking his eyes open Jim saw that Pa'tar was sitting straight up in front of him, punching away at his datapad with a furrowed brow. He was concentrating very hard on what looked like schoolwork, and Jim wondered what telemetric problem he was puzzling over. The child looked up and locked eyes with Jim.

"What's wrong?" Jim mumbled. Pa'tar immediately launched into a long telemetry question that had far too many numbers for Jim to hold in his sleepy mind. Trust a Vulcan child to wake up and start math problems. He patted the bed beside him, saying, "Not a Vulcan, remember? Slow down. Let me see that."

Pa'tar surprised Jim again when, after a moment's hesitation, he lay down beside Jim and all but snuggled against him, holding the datapad in front of him so that the Human could see it. He seemed to have taken Jim's words from yesterday to heart.

That is how Spock found them when he woke, slowly thinking out the various calculations and angles and trajectories of the problem. Jim knew that his help was nowhere near as clever or efficient as Spock's but he was still enjoying himself – something he had not thought possible about math in the morning. When the Vulcan woke, Pa'tar sat up quickly away from Jim, as if he had been caught doing something embarrassing. Spock looked distinctly unconcerned. He joined into the impromptu lesson with the easy genius that only a Vulcan could posses this early in the morning.

It was not until Saturn was looming ahead of them out the window that Jim had to admit that he should get to the bridge. It had to be well past the start of shift, but he was sure his crew wouldn't begrudge him an extra hour of sleep. Since Spock was needed there too, they left Pa'tar to his problems and headed up together.

It hadn't really occurred to him how it would look if he and Spock walked into the bridge late and at the same time. Uhura rolled her eyes, and Chekov and Sulu exchanged looks. Bones, who was standing beside Jim's empty chair, rubbed his forehead exasperatedly.

As he took his seat, Jim cleared his throat to quit the low level of muttering that had broken out on the bridge. "How long until we reach Earth, Chekov?

"Fifteen minutes," Chekov replied, drawing out the "ee" sound on minutes.

"Great," Jim said. "Do we have any instructions yet?"

"Yes Captain," Uhura said. "We're to dock with the space station and they'll send men aboard to assess whether or not the ship has to be brought down to surface or it can be repaired up here."

"Let's hope for the former, or we could be grounded a while," Jim sighed. The red of Mars had just disappeared off the side of their screen and they were left facing a small blue ball. As they grew closer and closer, Jim watched as the white wisps of clouds that drifted above the blue grew clearer so that he could trace their motion. Soon, continents and then countries were visible. Finally, they stopped, docking smoothly with the space station.

"The inspectors are beaming aboard," Scotty reported from the transport room. He did not sound at all happy about it. The doors to the bridge slid open to reveal Pa'tar, who trotted up to his chair and slid into it neatly. Jim grinned, and then began to point out things on the view screen to Pa'tar. They were floating over eastern Russia (a fact that Chekov made immediately known as soon as Jim began his geography lesson) – to their left lay Europe and, beyond it, the great Atlantic Ocean. To their right, Jim pointed out the thin snaking line that was the Ganges river in China and found the steam of an erupting Pacific volcano. He was pleased to have a lesson for the child that he could actually do better than Spock at. The rest of the crew got into the spirit, the excitement of being home again tingling in the air. No matter how long or short they were gone, after the ordeal they had been through it was nice to look down on a full planet of people who were guaranteed to welcome them.

Eventually, as Jim had somehow launched into an explanation of what a polar bear was, the report came back from the engineering bay. It was not good news – the ship would have to be repaired on the planet for at least a few weeks. Jim refrained from cursing with extreme difficulty, opting instead for a "Ok, Sulu, bring us down then."

It was not until Jim was on the ground standing some three hundred feet from the ship, having spent nearly an hour sorting out crew accommodation and other issues with the crew on the ground, that he could see the extent of the damage to the vessel and why it had to be grounded. There were holes in the shell and dents everywhere, and the entire engineering section looked, from this distance, like it had been patched together with Scotch tape. No wonder they had a fuel leak.

To his chagrin, they had landed in Riverside shipyards in what Jim assumed was a subtle method of punishment for him from Admiral Pike. The arrival of a giant starship, the fleet flagship at that, would not exactly go unnoticed, so that meant he had to go visit his mother. He hoisted a large bag of clothes and paperwork – he had about four years worth of accident reports to complete from Spock's antics alone – higher on his back and turned to head for the shuttle bus station where the rest of the crew had gathered.

The bus to take the crew to the nearest big city – and therefore nearest airport – had just pulled up as he reached them. He walked past, depositing his bag forlornly on the bench by the local bus stop. Pa'tar, holding the small satchel with his belongings and clutching his datapad still, broke away from the queue to board and walked over to him.

"Are you not getting on the bus, Captain?" he asked politely, but there was concern in his eyes.

"Naw," Jim said, attempting cheerfulness. "I'm going to visit my mother. We live in Riverside."

"This is where you originate from?" the child looked curious all of a sudden.

"Yup, good old Riverside," Jim said, not meaning a word of it.

"I'd like to see that," the young Vulcan said to Spock, who Jim had not noticed joining them.

"Oh trust me," Jim said. "You aren't missing anything."

"I would…prefer…to remain in Riverside," the child continued to Spock, "rather than visit an unknown city. It will be much more educational."

"There's not much to learn here," Jim said skeptically.

"I believe that Pa'tar is referring to what he hopes to learn about _you_," Spock elaborated, his mouth quirking. "I too find myself curious on this matter. There is also the benefit that we will be able to assist in the repair to the _Enterprise_. Is there accommodation in town?"

"Um, there's the Parker Hotel," Jim said, a bit thrown. Then something wonderful occurred to him. "You could stay with me though. We have a guest bedroom."

"That would be very agreeable, if we would not be intruding," Spock agreed.

"Spock!" Uhura's voice called from the door of the bus. "Hurry up!"

Spock, who did not yell as a general rule, walked briskly over to her and explained their plans. Uhura looked momentarily very put out before recovering and smiling, waving at Pa'tar and ducking into the bus. By the looks of the faces of crew, she wasted no time in telling them all that Spock was staying with Jim because many surprised and curious faces turned to look at the three of them standing in the road as the bus started to pull away. Jim winked at Bones before the bus turned out of the lot, just catching the man's horrified expression before the glare from the sun turned the windows opaque.

The bus ride to Riverside was eventful only in that they got stared at quite a lot, the two Vulcans and the local hero riding the bus, and that Pa'tar and Spock had apparently never ridden in a rural transport shuttle before. Jim could tell they were enjoying discussing how the old fashioned engine and wheel axels worked, though they were talking in Vulcan and so, besides from gestures, Jim wasn't sure what they were saying exactly. It was to bad – he was rather knowledgeable on the subject and it would have saved him having to talk to the locals that kept trying to snap pictures of him on their communicators.

It was with an unprecedented amount of relief that he reached his house at last, signing a young boy's cap before he was allowed to depart the shuttle. Dusk was falling as he plodded up to the door under the weight of his heavy bag, the two Vulcans following effortlessly behind him, and rang the door bell. Less than half a minute later, his mother opened the door.

Her mouth fell open for a few seconds before she arranged her features into a look of delight, exclaiming, "Jim! Back so soon!"

"Hey mom," he said as he was pulled into a hug. Over his mother's shoulder, he scanned the house waryily. Noticing what he was doing, she released him and scoffed.

"No boyfriend right now Jim – you've only been gone less than a month, give me some credit," she said, swatting him half seriously. Jim smiled a bit wider, dropping his bag into the hall behind her.

"Mom, this is Spock," Jim said, indicating the older Vulcan, who saluted her in the traditional way. Pa'tar copied him. Jim grinned and said, "And this is his adopted son Pa'tar. Spock, Pa'tar, this is my mother."

"Greetings, Ms. Kirk," Spock replied courteously as Pa'tar managed a ghost of a smile.

Jim saw his mother immediately fall prey to the young boy's look of polite, bright curiosity and slightly green-tinged cheeks, as Jim himself had. "Oh, please call me Winona" she said, her voice suddenly formal and overly cheerful. "Please, come in, come in."

"I was hoping they could stay for a bit Ma," Jim said, hoisting his bag again and turning towards his bedroom. "However long I'm here anyway."

"And how long will that be young man?" she asked, failing at looking stern. "Last time you were here far shorter than I'd have liked before you picked up and headed to the city."

"I'm not sure," Jim admitted. "They aren't sure how long the ship will take to repair. We'll be sticking around in case they need us."

"Oh and here I thought you wanted to see me," she teased.

"Of course," Jim flashed her a winning grin. "So can they stay?"

"Oh you are so much like for father," she sighed wistfully. "Of course they can."

"Great," Jim started up the stairs, motioning for the two Vulcans to follow, where they dropped their bags in the guest room. Jim relinquished his own bag at the foot of his childhood bed, and they all headed back down the stairs.

There they found Jim's mother bustling around the kitchen looking worried, wondering aloud what to make for a late diner for Vulcans. Spock kindly suggested that he prepare a traditional Vulcan dish, while Pa'tar offered to help her set up the rooms upstairs. She gratefully agreed to this, and so Jim and Spock were left to prepare dinner.

It was not until Jim and his mother were cleaning up the dishes, having sent the Vulcan's upstairs with many refusals for assistance, that Jim learned what the child had been up to with his mother. "It _will_ be nice to have a child in your room again, Jim," she sighed as she piled dinner plates on her right hand.

"I'm over twenty Mom, I thin I've outgrown the child stage a bit," he said sarcastically.

"Which is why I wasn't referring to you," she said, with a smile. When Jim looked puzzled, she gave him a wicked grin and said, "Pa'tar informed me that it would be more _logical_ for him to take the single bed and for you and Spock to share the double in the guest room."

"Did he?" Jim's ears turned red.

"Yes, he did," she did not look upset or disgusted, simply amused. "A bit outside your normal taste, wouldn't you say? A Vulcan? A _male_ Vulcan? With a _child_? For a playboy you are into commitment up to your ears now."

"I know," Jim sighed, placing glasses into the dishwasher. "Pa'tar especially complicates it."

"He's a lovely child," she said simply. "He reminds me a bit of you, if you were more grown up."

Jim laughed, tossing a tea towel at her and then turning to head up the stairs. "Good night mom."

"Goodnight sweetheart," she said.

Jim found Spock in their shared room, sitting on the end of the bed still in his Starfleet uniform, looking rueful. Jim suddenly wondered what he would wear for their vacation – he had a feeling it would either be his uniform or some horrible traditional Vulcan sweater thing. Either way it would be entertaining to see the reactions of people in town.

"It would appear that Pa'tar has confided to your mother the nature of or relationship. I hope this does not upset you," Spock looked a bit worried.

"Not a bit," Jim said truthfully. "I'd much rather be in here with you than alone in there. Just let me go get my bag."

Jim found Pa'tar sitting on Jim's bed, which had a starship flying across their front, staring up at the ceiling where Jim had stuck stickers in the layout of all the constellations from earth. He was looking up at the constellation of the hunter, Orion, with his eyes fixed on the star at the end of his dagger. After a moment during which Jim grabbed his bag and noticed with amusement that his mother had dressed the child in Jim's old cowboy pyjamas, Pa'tar whispered, "That is where Vulcan was."

Jim sighed and walked over, coaxing the child under the covers and pulling them up over him. The white chess knight was sitting, bright in the darkness, on top of the datapadon their child's bedside table. "I'll take it down if you like," Jim said, waving his hand at the ceiling.

"No, I find it both educational…and comforting," he admitted, before bidding Jim goodnight.

Jim returned to find Spock sitting at the small desk in the room already busy at work on a pile of paperwork. "You know I'm supposed to do that," Jim said.

"Yet I require less rest than you and am in fact more involved in the incidents being reported than you were," Spock didn't look up.

Jim pulled on his pyjama bottoms quickly and then flicked off the light. Spock actually rolled his eyes before switching on the desk lamp. Jim walked over and ran his hand over the back of Spock's shoulders. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently dragged the rolling desk chair towards him, spinning it so that Spock faced him, pen still held at elbow height, looking aggrieved.

His expression changed to one of surprise when Jim leant forward and pressed his forehead to Spock's. After a moment, he felt the telltale nudge of the Vulcan trying to enter his mind. He let him in immediately.

It was one of the few times that Spock went for a full meld, as it was tiring for him. After a moment, Jim could feel Spock's thoughts swirling on the edges of his own. _You mother seems to like Pa'tar_, the Vulcan mused after a long, comfortable silence. The thought echoed merrily through Jim's mind.

_She seems to like you, too_, he replied. _Good thing too, if you guys are going to be around as long as I would like._

How long is that? Spock asked, and Jim could feel his surprise. In reply he sent a flood of emotion, everything he felt about Spock, about his son, about their future and past. There was no other way to explain.

_It is gratifying to know that your emotions are similar to my own,_ Spock thought as warmth and love flooded Jim as Spock sent his own emotion back in turn. Jim found he had to force himself to remember to breathe because the gesture was so shockingly intimate. Jim remembered what Spock Prime had said to him, what he had called him, _thy'la_. He considered sharing that with the Vulcan, but eventually decided it wasn't the time for that discussion just yet.

At long last, Jim broke the meld to lean in for a kiss, cupping the other's hot face with his hands. He pulled gently, dragging the Vulcan out of his seat. Spock sighed against their locked lips and reached back to snap off the desk light before allowing himself to be hauled onto the bed on top of Jim.

The paperwork could wait until morning, Jim knew. He could wait to tell Spock how he felt, how _much_ he felt for him. They had time, he was sure. They had _a_ _lot_ of time ahead, together.


End file.
